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THE 



FARMER BOY, 



HOW HE BECAME COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF. 



BY UNCLE JUVINELL. 



EDITED BY 



9G^a^^^^^^ 



WILLIAM M. THAYER, 

AUTHOR OF "THE PIONEER BOY," ETC. 




BOSTON: 

WALKER, WISE, AND COMPANY, 

245, Washington Street. 

18 64. 






Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1863, by 

WALKER, WISE, AND COIMPANY, 

in the Clerk's OfiSce of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts 



^ k r ^ 



BOSTON : 

STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BT JOHN WILSON AND SON, 

No. 6, Water Street. 



INTEODUCTION. 

BY REV. WILLIAM M. THAYER. 



The reader will remember, that, in the preface of 
"The Printer Boy," I promised the next vol- 
ume should be " The Farmer Boy ; or. How 
George Washington became President." That 
pledge has never been redeemed, though some labor 
has been performed with reference to it. And now 
Providence seems to direct the fulfilment of the pro- 
mise by the pen of another, well known among 
youthful readers as that popular writer, " Uncle Ju- 
vineU." 

The advance sheets of a volume from his pen, upon 
the early hfe of Washington, have been placed in my 
hands for examination. I have carefully perused the 
work, and find it to be of so high a character, and so 
well adapted to the exigencies of the times, that I 
voluntarily abandon the idea of preparing the pro- 
posed volume myself, and most cordially recommend 
this work to the youth of our beloved land. I take 
this step with all the more readiness, when I learn 
that the author has persevered in his labors, though 



4 INTRODUCTION. 

totally blind and almost deaf; and I gladly transfer 
the title which I proposed to give my own book to 
his excellent w^ork, well satisfied that the act will 
prove a public benefit. 

The reader w^ill find that Mr. Heady (Uncle Juvi- 
nell) has produced a very entertaining and instructive 
volume. It is written in a racy, S23rightly style, that 
cannot fail to captivate the mind. Partaking himself 
of the buoyancy and good humor of boyhood, the 
author is able to write for the boys in a manner that 
is at once attractive and profitable. He has written 
a live book of one, who, " though dead, yet speaketh." 
It is replete with facts, and lessons of wisdom. The 
virtues are taught both by precept and example, and 
the vices are held up in all their deformity to warn 
and save. Religion, too, receives its just tribute, 
and wears the crown of glory. 

The appearance of this volume is timely. Adapted 
as it is to magnify the patriotic virtues, and the 
priceless worth of the government under which we 
live, it will prove a valuable contribution to the juve- 
nile literature of the land. In this period of mighty 
struggles and issues, when our nation is groaning 
and travailing in pain to bring forth a future of sur- 
passing renown and grandeur, it is important to 
inspire the hearts of American youth by the noblest 
examples of patriotism and virtue. And such is 
Washington, the " Father of his Country." It is best 
that the young of this battling age should study his 



INTRODUCTION. & 

character and emulate his deeds. His life was the 
richest legacy that he could leave to unborn genera- 
tions, save the glorious Republic that he founded ; 
and well will it be for the youth of our country when 
that life becomes to them the stimulus to exalted aims. 
Then loyalty will be free as air, and rebellions be 
unknown ; then treason will hide its hydra-head, 
and our insulted flag wave in triumph where the last 
chain of slavery is broken. 

Tliis volume will do its part to hasten this consum- 
mation of our patriot-hopes. Over its pleasant pages, 
then, we extend the right hand of fellowship to its 
author, though a stranger to us. Long may his 
able pen hold out ! Widely may this his last work 
circulate ! Blessed may be the fruits ! 

W. M. T. 

Franklin, Mass., October, 1863. 



PREFACE. 



Our beloved country, my dear young readers, has 
passed through one great revolution ; and it is now in 
the midst of another, which promises to prove even 
more momentous in its consequences. 

Ejiowing, therefore, the deep and lasting impres- 
sion the great events of the day must needs produce 
upon your opening minds, the author of this book 
has been casting about him how he might contribute 
to your and the nation's good. As he is altogether 
bereft of sight, and nearly so of hearing, he is, of 
course, unable to Hft a hand in his country's defence, 
or raise his voice in her justification. But she has a 
future ; and for that he entertains an earnest hope, 
that through you, the rising generation, he may do 
something. 

To this end, therefore, he has written this volume, 
wherein he has endeavored to set forth, in a manner 
more calculated to attract and impress the youthful 
mind than has perhaps been heretofore attempted, 
the life and character of our good and great George 
Washington. 

[vii] 



Vm PREFACE. 

By so doing, he hopes to awaken In your minds 
a desire to imitate the example and emulate the vir- 
tues of this greatest and wisest of Americans. For 
should he succeed in this, and thereby influence a 
thousand of you, when arrived at man's estate, to 
remain loyal to your country in her hour of peril 
(who might else have been tempted to turn their 
hand against her) , then shall his humble pen have 
done more for her future welfare than he could 
have done for her present deliverance, had he the 
wielding of a thousand swords. 

And, should he ever have reason to suppose that 
such were really the case, far happier would he be, 
even in the dark and silent depths of his solitude, 
than the renowned victor of a hundred battle-fields, 
in all the blaze and noise of popular applause. Hop- 
ing that this little book may, for your sakes, fulfil 
the object for which it was written, and prove but the 
beginning of a long and pleasant acquaintance, he 
will conclude by begging to subscribe himself your 
true friend and well-wisher,. 

MORRISON HEADY. 
Elk Ckeek, Spencer County, Ky., 1863. 



CONTENTS. 



Introduction .... * 17 

WHEREIN IT WILL APPEAR WHO UNCLE JUVINELL IS, AND HOW 
HE CAME TO WRITE THE LIFE OP " THE FARMER BOY » FOR THE 
LITTLE FOLKS. 

I. 

George at School 35 

IN WHICH THE YOUNG READER WILL FIND SOME ACCOUNT OP 
THE BIRTH, CHILDHOOD, AND EARLY EDUCATION OF GEORGE 
WASHINGTON, AND THE STORY OF HIS LITTLE HATCHET ; FROM 
WHICH HE MAY DRAW A WHOLESOME MORAL, IF HE BE DESIROUS 
OF GROWING IN VIRTUE ; TOGETHER WITH OTHER MATTERS OF 
INTEREST AND IMPORTANCE HARDLY TO BE FOUND ELSEWHERE. 

n. 

The First Sorrow 46 

SHOWING HOW GEORGE MET WITH THE FIRST GREAT SORROW 
OF HIS LIFE IN THE DEATH OF HIS FATHER ; AND HOW HIS MOTHER 
WAS LEFT A YOUNG WIDOW, WITH THE CARE OF A LARGE FAMILY ; 
WITH SOME REMARKS ON THE PRUDENCE AND WISDOM SHE DIS- 
PLAYED IN THE REARING OF EEER CHILDREN ; TOGETHER WITH THE 
STORY OF THE SORREL COLT, WHICH UNCLE JUVINELL INTRODUCES 
BY WAY OF ILLUSTRATING THE CHARACTERS OF BOTH MOTHER 
AND SON. 

[ix] 



X CONTENTS. 

ni. 

Flaying Soldier 54 

WHEREIN THE YOUNG READER WILL FIND HOW GEORGE FIGURED 
AS A LITTLE SOIxDIER AT SCHOOL ; WITH SOME REMARKS TOUCHING 
HIS WONDERFUL STRENGTH AND ACTIVITY OF BODY, AND COURAGE 
OF SPIRIT ; AND HOW HE WOULD HAVE FIGURED AS A LITTLE SAILOR, 
HAD HE NOT BEEN PREVENTED BY A MOTHER'S ANXIOUS LOVE ; 
WHICH INFLUENCED NOT ONLY THE WHOLE COURSE OF HIS FUTURE 
LIFE, BUT ALSO THE DESTINY OF HIS NATIVE COUNTRY, AND, IT 
MAY BE, THAT OF THE WHOLE WORLD; AS THE LITTLE READER 
WILL FIND OUT FOR HIMSELF, IF HE BUT HAVE THE PATIENCE TO 
BEAR UNCLE JUVINELL COMPANY TO THE END OF THIS INTERESTING 
HISTORY. 

IV. 

^^ Rides of Behavior ^^ 61 

AFFORDING TO THE READER ANOTHER AND HIS LAST GLIMPSE 
OF WASHINGTON AS A SCHOOL-BOY. HERE HE WILL LEARN OF 
WASHINGTON'S MANY INGENIOUS MODES OF GAINING AND RETAIN- 
ING KNOWLEDGE, AND HIS HABITS OF PUTTING IT TO PRACTICAL 
USES ; AND WILL FIND HIS RULES OF BEHAVIOR IN COMPANY AND 
IN CONVERSATION, WRITTEN AT THE AGE OF THIRTEEN, WHICH 
UNCLE JUVINELL WOULD EARNESTLY RECOMIMEND HIM, AND, IN 
FACT, ALL HIS READERS, BE THEY BOYS OR GIRLS, MEN OR WOMEN, 
TO STORE AWAY IN THEIR MEMORIES, IF THEY BE DESIROUS OP 
GROWING IN VIRTUE, AND OF DEPORTING THEMSELVES IN SUCH 
A MANNER AS TO GAIN THE GOOD -WILL AND ESTEEM, AND CON- 
TRIBUTE TO THE HAPPINESS, OF ALL AROUND THEM. 

V. 

In the Wilderness 70 

IN WHICH WILL BE SEEN HOW GEORGE BECAME ACQUAINTED 
WITH OLD LORD FAIRFAX, AND WAS EMPLOYED BY THIS GREAT 
NOBLEMAN TO ACT AS SURVEYOR OP ALL HIS WILD LANDS; WITH 
SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE HE LED IN THE WILDERNESS, AND 
A SOMEWHAT HIGHLY COLORED PICTURE OF A WAR-DANCE PER- 
FORMED BY A PARTY OF INDIANS FOR THE ENTERTAINMENT OF HIM 
AND HIS FRIENDS. 



CONTENTS. XI 

YI. 

The Yoting Surveyor 78 

REVEALING STILL FURTHER GLIMPSES OF WASHINGTON AS A 
YOUNG SURVEYOR, — IN WHICH THE READER WILL SEE HOW THAT 
GREAT MAN BROUGHT HIS LABORS IN THE WILDERNESS TO AN 
END; WITH SOME REMARKS RESPECTING THE LOWLAND BEAUTY, 
AND HOW LITTLE IS KNOWN OF HER. 

vn. 

First Military Appointment 89 

IN WHICH THE YOUNG READER WILL LEARN HOW WASHINGTON, 
AT THE EARLY AGE OF NINETEEN, BECAME ONE OF THE ADJUTANT- 
GENERALS OF THE PROVINCE OF VIRGINIA ; AND HOW HE WENT ON 
A VOYAGE TO THE WEST INDIES IN COMPANY WITH HIS BROTHER 
LAWRENCE, WHO, BEING IN QUEST OF HEALTH, AND FAILING TO 
FIND IT THERE, RETURNED HOME TO DIE. 

vm. 

Important Explanations 96 

WHEREIN UNCLE JUVINELL AND THE LITTLE FOLKS TALK TOGE- 
THER, IN A PLEASING AND FAMILIAR STYLE, OF CERTAIN MATTERS 
CONTAINED IN THE FOREGOING PAGES; WHICH, BEING SOMEWHAT 
DIFFICULT OF COMPREHENSION, NEED TO BE MORE FULLY AND 
CLEARLY EXPLAINED, THAT THEY MAY THE BETTER UNDERSTAND 
WHAT IS TO COME HEREAFTER IN THIS INTERESTING HISTORY. 

IX. 

Indian Troubles ^ • • .105 

WHEREIN UNCLE JUVINELL GOES ON WITH HIS STORY, AND TELLS 
THE LITTLE FOLKS ALL THAT IS NEEDFUL FOR THEM TO KNOW 
CONCERNING THE CAUSES THAT BROUGHT ABOUT THE OLD FRENCH 
WAR ; TO WHICH THE YOUNG READER WILL DO WELL TO PAY VERY 
PARTICULAR ATTENTION. 



XU CONTENTS. 

X. 

^^Bio- Talk'' ivkh ''White Thunder'' ... 115 

o 
EXPLAINING HOW MAJOR WASHINGTON CAME TO BE SENT BY 
GOVERNOR DINVflDDIE ON A MISSION TO THE FRENCH, NEAR LAKE 
ERIE. — HOW HE SET OUT. — WHAT BEFELL HIM BY THE WAY. — 
HOW HE STOPPED AT LOGSTOWN TO HAVE A BIG TALK WITH THE 
HALF-KING, WHITE THUNDER, AND OTHER INDIAN WORTHIES. — 
HOW HE AT LAST REACHED THE FRENCH FORT, AND WHAT HE DID 
AFTER HE GOT THERE. 

• XI. 

Christmas in the Wilderness . . . *. . . 126 

ENABLING THE YOUNG READER TO FOLLOW MAJOR WASHINGTON 
TO HIS JOURNEY'S END, AND SEE HOW HE AND HIS PARTY SPENT 
THEIR CHRISTMAS IN THE WILDERNESS. — HOW HE TWICE CAME 
NEAR LOSING HIS LIFE, FIRST BY THE TREACHERY OP AN INDIAN 
GUIDE, AND THEN BY DROWNING; WITH SOME ACCOUNT OF HIS 
INTERVIEW WITH THE INDIAN PRINCESS, ALIQUIPPA. 

xn. 

Washington's First Battle 134 

IN WHICH THE YOUNG READER, AFTER GETTING A HINT OF THE 
TREMENDOUS CONSEQUENCES THAT ENSUED FROM THE FRENCH 
GENERAL'S LETTER, WILL FIND SO MUCH TO ENTERTAIN HIM, THAT 
HE WILL READILY EXCUSE UNCLE JUVINELL FROM GIVING THE 
REMAINING HEADS OF THIS CHAPTER ; FURTHER THAN TO SAY, THAT 
IT WINDS UP WITH QUITE A LIVELY AND SPIRITED ACCOUNT OP 
WASHINGTON'S FIRST BATTLE. 

• 

XIII. 
Fort Necessity 146 

WHAT BEFELL COLONEL WASHINGTON IN AND AROUND FORT NE- 
CESSITY, AND HOW HE SUSTAINED HIS FIRST SIEGE ; WHICH WILL 
BE FOUND EVEN MORE ENTERTAINING THAN THE ACCOUNT OF HIS 
FIRST BATTLE, NARRATED IN THE LAST CHAPTER. 



CONTENTS. xm 

XIV. 

General Braddock . . . 158 

IN WHICH THE YOUNG READER AND COLONEL WASHINGTON FORM 
THE ACQUAINTANCE OF GENERAL BRADDOCK, AND COME TO THE 
SAME CONCLUSIONS REGARDING HIS CHARACTER; AND IN WHICH 
THE READER IS HONORED WITH A SLIGHT INTRODUCTION TO THE 
GREAT DR. FRANKLIN, WHO GIVES SOME GOOD ADVICE, WHICH 
BRADDOCK, TO HIS FINAL COST, FAILS TO FOLLOW; AND IS ENTERr- 
TAINED WITH A FEW GLIMPSES OF LIFE IN CAMP. 

XV. 
Rough Work 172 

THE READER WILL SEE HOW GENERAL BRADDOCK AT LAST SET 
OUT ON HIS MARCH TO FORT DUQUESNE. — HOW HE GOT ENTANGLED 
IN THE WILDERNESS, AND WAS FORCED TO CALL UPON THE YOUNG 
PROVINCIAL COLONEL FOR ADVICE, WHICH, THOUGH WISELY GIVEN, 
WAS NOT WISELY FOLLOWED.— HOW CAPTAIN JACK MADE AN OFFER, 
FOR WHICH HE GOT BUT SORRY THANKS ; AND WILL FIND A SPRINK- 
LING OF WAYSIDE ITEMS HERE AND THERE ; WHICH SAVES THIS 
CHAPTER FROM BEING CONSIDERED A DULL ONE. 

XVI. 

Braddock'' s Defeat 186 

IN WHICH IS RECORDED THE BLOODIEST PAGE IN THE ANNALS 
OF AMERICA ; OR, TO EXPRESS IT OTHERWISE, AN ACCOUNT OF THE 
FAMOUS BATTLE OF THE MONONGAHELA, COMMONLY CALLED BRAD- 
DOCK'S DEFEAT; WHICH, IT WILL BE SEEN AT A GLANCE, MIGHT 
HAVE TURNED OUT A VICTORY AS WELL, HAD WASHINGTON'S AD- 
VICE BEEN FOLLOWED. 

xvn. 

Explanations 200 

WHEREIN UNCLE JUVINELL AND THE LITTLE FOLKS DISCOURSE 
TOGETHER, IN A LIVELY AND ENTERTAINING STYLE, OF DIVERS MAT- 
TERS TO BE FOUND, AND NOT TO BE FOUND, IN BOOK THURSDAY; 



XIV CONTENTS. 

WHICH MAY SEEIM OF LITTLE CONSEQUENCE TO THOSE ELDERLY 
PEOPLE WHO ARE TOO WISE TO BE AMUSED, AND WHO WOULD, ANY 
TIME, RATHER SEE A FACT BROUGHT OUT STARK NAKED THAN 
DRESSED HANDSOMELY. SUCH 0^^1.8 ARE REQUESTED TO PASS OVER 
THIS CHAPTER, AND PERCH UPON BOOK FRIDAY, PORTIONS OF WHICH 
WILL BE FOUND QUITE AS DRY AS THEY COULD POSSIBLY DESIRE. 

XVIII. 
TVork ill Earnest 210 

SHOWING HOW BRADDOCK'S ARMY CONTINUED ITS FLIGHT TO 
PHILADELPHIA. — HOW WASHINGTON RETURNED TO MOUNT VERNON, 
AND WAS SHORTLY AFTERWARDS MADE COMMANDER OF ALL THE 
FORCES OF VIRGINIA ; AND HOW HE WENT TO BOSTON, AND WHY ; 
WITH OTHER ITEMS OF INTEREST. 

XIX. 

DarJc Days 222 

STILL FARTHER ACCOUNT OF WASHINGTON'S TROUBLES WITH THE 
INDIANS AND WITH HIS OWN IMEN, AND NOTICE OF HIS MISUNDER- 
STANDING WITH GOVERNOR DINWIDDIE ; ALL OF WHICH, COMBINED, 
RENDER THIS THE SADDEST AND THE GLOOMIEST PERIOD OF HIS 
LIFE. 

XX. 

A New Enter pise 233 

CONTAINING GLIMPSES OUTSIDE OF THE DIRECT LINE OF OUR 
STORY, WITH A MORE MINUTE AND CIRCUMSTANTIAL ACCOUNT OF 
HOW WASHINGTON WOOED AND WON A FAIR LADY THAN IS TO BE 
MET WITH ELSEWHERE ; WITH SOME PARTICULARS TOUCHING AN 
INTENDED EXPEDITION AGAINST FORT DUQUESNE. 

XXI. 

More Blundering 244 

SHOWING HOW BRADDOCK'S FOLLY WAS REPEATED BY MAJOR 
GRANT, AS FOREBODED BY WASHINGTON; AND ALSO WHAT CAME 
OF THE EXPEDITION AGAINST FORT DUQUESNE. 



CONTENTS. XV 

XXII. 

Washington at Home , . 255 

GIVING AN ACCOUNT OF WASHINGTON'S MARRIAGE WITH SIRS. 
CUSTIS. — HIS RECEPTION BY THE VIRGINIA HOUSE OF BURGESSES.— 
HIS HABITS AS A MAN OF BUSINESS. — HIS RURAL PURSUITS AND 
AMUSEMENTS. — HIS LOVE OP SOCIAL PLEASURES. — HIS ADVENTURE 
AVITH A POACHER ; AND MANY OTHER ITEMS ; ALL OF WHICH, COM- 
BINED, MAKE THIS CHAPTER ONE OF THE MOST PLEASING AND 
ENTERTAINING OF THE WHOLE BOOK. 

XXUI. 

A Family Quarrel . 269 

WHEREIN THE YOUNG READER WILL FIND WHAT WILL BE EX- 
PLAINED MORE TO HIS SATISFACTION IN CHAPTER XXIV. 

XXIY. 

Tlie Cause of the Quarrel 276 

AFFORDING A MORE CLEAR AND SATISFACTORY ACCOUNT OF THE 
CAUSES THAT BROUGHT ABOUT OUR REVOLUTIONARY WAR THAN 
WAS GIVEN IN CHAPTER XXIII. ; BUT CHAPTER XXV. MUST NEEDS 
BE READ, BEFORE A FULL AND COMPLETE UNDERSTANDING OF 
THESE MATTERS CAN BE ARRIVED AT. 

XXV. 

Resistance to Tyranny 288 

ILLUSTRATING WHAT PART WASHINGTON TOOK IN THESE MEA- 
SURES OF RESISTANCE TO BRITISH TYRANNY.— HOW HE BECAME A 
REPRESENTATIVE OF VIRGINIA IN THE GREAT COLONIAL ASSEMBLY, 
OTHERWISE CALLED THE OLD CONTINENTAL CONGRESS; AND HOW, 
UPON THE BREAKING-OUT OF HOSTILITIES BETWEEN THE COLONIES 
AND THE MOTHER-COUNTRY, HE WAS MADE COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF 
OF ALL THE FORCES OF THE UNITED COLONIES ; WITH OTHER ITEMS 
TOUCHING THE PROCEEDINGS OF THE CONTINENTAL CONGRESS, AND 
PATRICK HENRY, THE GREAT VIRGINIA ORATOR. 



XVI CONTENTS. 

XXYI. 

Conclusion 301 

WHEREIN THE YOUNG READER WILL BE ENTERTAINED WITH 
THE PLEASING AND EDIFYING CONVERSATION WHICH TOOK PLACE 
BETWEEN UNCLE JUVINELL AND THE LITTLE FOLKS, TOUCHING 
DIVERS MATTERS IN BOOK FRIDAY ; WHICH DEMAND FURTHER CON- 
SIDERATION FOR A MORE COMPLETE UNDERSTANDING OF OUR HIS- 
TORY, PAST AND TO COME. 



THE FARMER BOY. 



INTRODUCTION. 

SOMEWHERE in green Kentucky, not a great 
many years ago, the ruddy light of a Christmas 
sunset, streaming in at the windows of an old-fash- 
ioned brick house, that stood on a gentle hillside, 
half hidden by evergreens, shone fidl and broad on a 
group of merry little youngsters there met together 
to spend the holiday with their Uncle Juvinell, a 
charming old bachelor of threescore and ten. 

What with "blind man's buff," "leap-frog," 
" hide-and-seek," " poor pussy wants a corner," Mo- 
ther Goose, dominos, sky-rocket§ and squibs, and 
what with the roasting of big red apples and the 
munching of gingerbread elephants, the reading of 
beautiful story-books, — received that morning as 
Christmas presents from their Uncle Juvinell and 
other loving relatives, — these little folks had found 
this day the most delightful of their lives. 

[17] 



18 THE FARMER BOY. 

Tired at last of play, and stuffed with Christmas 
knick-knacks till their jackets and breeches could hold 
no more, they had now betaken themselves to the 
library to await the return of their Uncle Juvinell, 
who had gone out to take his usual evening walk ; 
and were now quietly seated round a blazing winter 
fire, that winked and blinked at them with its great 
bright eye, and went roaring right merrily up the 
wide chimney. Just as the last beam of the setting 
sun went out at the window. Uncle Juvinell, as if to 
fill its place, came in at the door, all brisk and ruddy 
from his tramp over the snow in the sharp bracing 
air, and was hailed with a joyous shout by the little 
folks, who, hastening to wheel his great arm-chair 
for him round to the fire, pushed and pulled him 
into it, and called upon him to tell one of his most 
charming stories, even before the tingling frost was 
out of his nose. ■ 

As this worthy old gentleman has done much for 
the entertainment and instruction of the rising gene- 
rations of the land, it is but due him that some 
mention, touching his many amiable traits of charac- 
ter and his accomplishments of mind and person, 
should be made in this place for the more complete 
satisfaction of those who may hereafter feel themselves 
indebted to him for some of the most pleasant 
moments of their lives. 

In person. Uncle Juvinell is stout and well-rounded. 
His legs are fat, and rather short ; his body is fat, 



INTKODUCTION. 19 

and rather long ; his belly is snug and plump ; his 
hands are plump and white; his hair is white and 
soft ; his eyes are soft and blue ; his coat is blue 
and sleek ; and over his sleek and dimpled face, from 
his dimpled cliin to the very crown of his head, — 
which, being bald, shines like sweet oil in a warm 
fire-light, — there beams one unbroken smile of fun, 
good-humor, and love, that fills one's heart with 
sunshine to behold. Indeed, to look at him, and be 
with him a while, you could hardly help half believing 
that he must be a twin-brother of Santa Claus, so 
closely does he resemble that far-famed personage, 
not only in appearance, but in character also ; and 
more than once, having been met in his little sleigh 
by some belated school-boy, whistling homeward 
through the twilight of a Christmas or New Year's 
Eve, he has been mistaken for the jolly old saint 
himself. In short, his whole appearance is in the 
highest degree respectable ; and there is even about 
him an air of old-fashioned elegance, which of course 
is owing chiefly to the natural sweetness and polite- 
ness of his manners, and yet perhaps a little height- 
ened withal by the gold-bowed spectacles that he 
wears on his nose, the heavy gold bar that pins his 
snowy linen, the gold buttons that shine on his coat, 
his massive gold watch-chain (at the end of which 
hangs a great red seal as big as a baby's fist) , and by 
his gold-headed ebony cane, that he always carries on 
his shoulder like a musket when he walks, as much 



20 THE FAKMER BOY. 

as to say, " Threescore and ten, and no need of a 
staff yet, my Christian friend." No man is more 
beloved and esteemed by all who know him, old and 
young, than he ; for like Father Grimes, whose 
nephew he is by the mother's side, — 

*' He modest merit seeks to find, 
And give it its desert ; 
He has no malice in his mind, - 

No ruffles on his shirt. 

His neighbors he does not abuse ; 

Is sociable and gay : 
He wears large buckles in his shoes, 

And changes them each day." 

If there is one thina: about Uncle Juvinell that we 
might venture to pronounce more charming than 
another, it is the smile of mingled fun, good-humor, 
and love, with which his countenance never ceases to 
shine, save when he hears the voice of pain and his 
breast with pity burns. Touching this same trait 
of his, a lady once said in our hearing, that she verily 
believed a cherub, fresh from the rosy chambers of 
the morning, came at the opening of each day to 
Uncle Juvinell's chamber, just on purpose to dash 
a handful of sunbeams on his head ; and, as there 
were always more than enough to keep his face 
bathed with smiles for the next twenty-four hours, 
they were not wasted, but, falling and lodging on 
his gold spectacles, his gold breast-pin, his gold but- 
tons, his gold watch-chain, and the gold head of 



INTRODUCTION. 21 

his ebony cane, washed them with lustre ever new, 
as if his face, bright and broad as it was, were not 
enough to reflect the love and sunshine ever dwelling 
in his heart. We will not undertake to vouch for 
the truth of this, however. As the young lady was a 
marriageable young lady, and had been for a num- 
ber of years, it would not be gallant or generous for 
us to mention it ; but of this we are certain, that, 
when this good old gentleman enters a room, there 
is a warmth and brightness in his very presence, 
that causes you to look round, half expecting to see 
the tables and chairs throwino^ their shadows alonsf 
the floor, as if, by the power of magic, a window had 
suddenly been opened in the wall to let in the morn- 
ing sunshine. *^ 

If the affections of Uncle Juvinell's heart are child- 
like in their freshness, the powers of his intellect are 
gigantic in their dimensions. He is a man of pro- 
digious learning : for proof of which, you have but to 
enter his library, and take note of the books upon 
books that crowd the shelves from the floor to the 
ceiling ; the maps that line the walls ; the two gi-eat 
globes, one of the earth and the other of the heavens, 
that stand on either side of his reading-desk ; and the 
reading-desk itself, whereon there always hes some 
book of monstrous size, wide open, which no one has 
ever had the courage to read from beginning to end, 
or could comprehend if he did. 

In the languages he is very expert ; speaking 



22 THE FARMER BOY. 

French with such clearness and distinctness, that any 
native-born Frenchman, with a fair knowledge of the 
English, can with but little difficulty understand 
more than half he says ; and in German he is scarcely 
less fluent and ready ; while his Latin is the envy 
of all who know only their "mother- tongue. In 
mathematics, his skill is such, that you might give him 
a sum, the working-out of which would cover three 
or four large slates ; and he would never fail to 
arrive at the answer, let him but take his time. 

In astronomy, he is perfectly at home among the 
fixed stars ; can distinguish them at a single glance, 
and that, too, w^ithout the help of his spectacles, from 
the wandering planets ; and is as familiar with the 
motion and changes of the moon, as if he had been in 
the habit for the last forty years of spending the hot 
summer months at some of the fashionable waterine;- 
places of that amiable and interesting orb. But it is 
in the history of the nations and great men of the 
earth that Uncle Juvinell most excels, as shall be 
proved to your entire satisfaction before reaching the 
end of this volume. 

And yet, notwithstanding the vastness of his learn- 
ing and the gigantic powers of his mind, he can, 
when it so pleases him, disburden himself of these 
great matters, and descend from liis lofty height to 
the comprehension of the little folks, with as much 
ease as a huge balloon, soaring amidst the clouds, can 
let off* its gas, and sink down to the level of the kites, 



INTRODUCTION. 23 

air-balls, and sky-rockets wherewith they are wont 
to amuse themselves. 

Being an old bachelor, as before noticed, he, of 
course, has no children of his own ; but, Hke the 
philosopher that he is, he always consoles himself for 
this misfortune with the reflection, that, had he been 
so favored, much of his love and aflection must needs 
have been wasted on his own six, eight, or ten, as 
the case might have been, instead of being divided 
without measure among the hundreds and thousands 
of Httle ones that gladden the wedded Hfe, and fill 
with their music the homes of others more blessed. 

Living, as all his brothers do, in easy circum- 
stances, he has abundant time and leisure to devote 
himself to the particular interest and enjoyment of 
these little ones ; and is always casting in his mind 
what he may be doing to amuse them, or make them 
wiser, better, and happier. 

Such is the ease, heartiness, and familiarity with 
which he demeans himself when among them, and 
enters into all their httle pastimes and concerns, that 
they stand no more in awe of him than if he were 
one of their own number ; and make him the butt 
of a thousand impish pranks, at which he laughs 
as heartily as the merriest rogue among them. And 
yet it is for that very reason, perhaps, that they 
love him so devotedly, and would give up their dog- 
knives or wax dolls any day, sooner than show 
themselves unmindful of his slightest wishes, or do 



24 THE FARMER BOY. 

aught that could bring upon them even his softest 
rebuke. They make nothing of taking off his gold 
spectacles, and putting them on their own little pugs 
to look wise ; or running their chubby fists into the 
tight, warm pockets of his breeches, in quest of liis 
gold pencil or pearl-handled knife ; or dashing like 
mad over the yard, with his gold-headed cane for a 
steed ; or steaHng up beliind him, as he stands with 
his back to the fire, and slyly pulling out his big red 
bandanna handkerchief, wherewith to yoke the dog 
and cat together as they lie sociably side by side on 
•the hearth-rug. In short, he will suffer them to tease 
him and tousle him and tumble him to their hearts' 
content, and set no limits to their Hberties, so long as 
they are careful not to touch his snowy linen with 
their smutched fingers ; for, if Uncle Juvinell has one 
fault in the world, it is his unreasonable partiality for 
snowy hnen. But, were we to go on with our praises 
and commendations of this best of men, we should 
fill a large volume ftdl to overflowing, and still leave 
the better half unsaid : so we must exercise a little 
self-denial, and forego such pleasing thoughts for the 
present, as it now behooves us to bring our minds to 
bear upon matters we have more nearly in view. 

Seeing how earnestly the httle folks w^ere bent 
upon drawing out of him one of his longest stories, 
Uncle Juvinell now bade them sit down and be quiet 
till he should have time to conjure up something more 
charming than any Arabian tale they had ever heard ; 



INTKODUCTION. 25 

and tlirowing himself back in his great arm-chair, 
and fixing his eyes on the glowing coals, that seemed 
to present to his fancy an ever-shifting panorama, 
was soon lost in profound meditation. And the 
longer he thought, the harder he looked at the fire, 
which knowingly answered his look with a winking 
and bhnking of its great bright eye, that seemed to 
say, " Well, Uncle Juvinell, what shall we do for the 
entertainment or instruction of these little people 
to-night? Shall we tell them of that crew of antic 
goblins we wot of, who are wont to meet by moon- 
light, to play at football with the hanged man's head, 
among the tombstones of an old graveyard ? Or may 
be that dreadful ogre, with the one fiery eye in the 
middle of his forehead, who was in the habit of roast- 
ing fat men on a spit for his Christmas dinners, would 
be more to their taste. Or, if you prefer it, let it be 
that beautiful fairy, who, mounted on a milk-white 
pony, and dressed in green and gold, made her home 
in an echoing wood, for no other purpose than to 
lead little children therefrom, who might by some ill 
chance be separated from their friends, and lose their 
way in its tangled wilds. Or perhaps you are 
thinking it would be more instructive to them were 
we to conjure up some story of early times in green 
Kentucky, when our great-grandfathers were wont to 
take their rifles to bed with them, and sleep with them 
in their arms, ready to spring up at the sHghtest 
rusthng of the dry leaves in the woods, and defend 

2 



2(3 THE FARMER BOY. 

themselves against the dreaded Indian, as with pan- 
ther-like tread he sknlked around their lonely dwell- 
ings." 

To each and all of these, Uncle Juvinell shook his 
head ; none of them being just exactly the tiling he 
wanted. At length, finding that the fire hindered 
rather than helped him to make a choice, lie rose 
from his seat, turned his back upon it, and lool^ed 
from one bright face to another of the circle before 
him, till his eye rested on Daniel, who was among 
the oldest of the children, and was, by the way, the 
young historian of the family, and, in his own opinion, 
a youth of rather uncommon parts. He had that 
morning received from his uncle, as a Christmas pre- 
sent, that most delightful of story-books, "Robinson 
Crusoe ; " but having seen the unlucky sailor high, but 
not dry, on his desert island, and having run his eye 
over all the pictures, he had laid it aside, and was 
now standing at the reading-desk, looking as wise as 
a young owl in a fog over a very large book indeed, 
in wliich he pretended to be too deeply interested to 
finish a slab of gingerbread that lay half munched at 
his side. 

Seeing his little nephew thus engaged. Uncle 
Juvinell smiled a quiet smile all to himself, and, after 
watching him a few moments, said, "Dannie, my 
boy, what book is that you are reading with so 
much Interest that you have forgotten your ginger- 
bread?" 



INTRODUCTION. 27 

" Irylng's Life of Washington, sir," replied Daniel 
with an air. 

" A good book, a very good indeed ; but too hard 
for you, I fear," said Uncle Juvinell, shaking his 
head. "Tell me, though, how far you have read." 

" To Braddock's defeat, sir," replied Daniel." 

"You have been getting over the ground rather 
fast, I am thinking ; but tell me how you like it," 
said Uncle Juvinell, by way of drawing his little 
nephew out. 

"Here and there, I come to a chapter that I like 
very much," replied Daniel: "but there are parts 
that I don't understand very well ; and I was just 
thinking that I would point them out to you some 
time, and get you to explain them to me ; as you 
will, I am certain ; for you know every thing, and are 
so oblio'ino^ to us little folks ! " 

At this. Uncle Juvinell's face lighted up as with a 
brilliant thought ; but, without seeming to notice his 
little nephew's request just then, he reseated himself, 
and again began looking hard at the fire. The fire 
opened its great bright eye more widely than before, 
and looked as if it were putting the question, "Well, 
sir, and what is it now ? Out with it, and I will 
throw what light I can on the matter." After a few 
moments, there appeared to be a perfect understanding 
between them ; for the fire with a sly wink seemed to 
say, "A happy thought. Uncle Juvinell, — a very 
happy thought indeed : I was just on the point of 



28 THE FARMER BOY. 

proposing the very same thing myself. Come, let 
us go about it at once, and make these holidays 
the brightest and happiest these little folks have 
ever known, or ever could or would or should know, 
in all their lives." And the fire fell to winking 
and blinking at such an extravagant rate, that the 
shadows of those who were seated round it began 
bobbing up and down the wall, looking like mis- 
shapen goblins amusing themselves by jumping imagi- 
nary ropes, the gigantic one of Uncle Ju^dnell leaping 
so high as to butt the ceiling. 

After several minutes of deep thought, the old 
gentleman rose, and stood on his short fat legs with 
the air of a man who had made up his mind, and 
with a smile on his fiice, as if sure he was just on the 
point of giving them all a pleasant surprise. " Lau- 
ra, my dear," said he, "take down that picture from 
the wall you see hanging- to the right of the book- 
case ; and you, Ella, my darling, take that bunch of 
feathers, and brush off the dust from it. Now hand 
it to me. This, my cherubs," he went on, "is the 
portrait of the good and great George Washington, 
who is called the Father of our country. It is to him, 
more than to any other man, that w^e owe the bless- 
ings of freedom, peace, and prosperity, we now enjoy 
in larger measure than any other people of the wide 
earth ; and it was for these same blessings that he 
fought and struggled through all the weary years of 
our Revolutionary War, amidst difficulties, dangers, 



mTRODUCTION. 29 

and discouragements such as never before tried the 
strength of man. And when, in the happy end, he, 
by his courage, skill, and fortitude, and abiding trust 
in the protection of an all-wise Providence, had come 
out victorious over all, and driven our cruel enemies 
from the land, so that our homes were once more 
gladdened with the smiles of peace and plenty, — then 
it was that a grateful people with one voice hailed 
him chosen of the Lord for the salvation of our be- 
loved country. Blessed be the name of George Wash- 
ington, — blessed for evermore ! " And a big tear of 
love and thankfulness started from each of Uncle Ju- 
vinell's mild blue eyes, trickled slowly over his ruddy 
cheek, and, dropping thence, went hopping and spar- 
kling down his large blue waistcoat. 

At this the little folks looked very grave, and 
thought to themselves, "What a good man Wash- 
ington must have been, and how much he must have 
done and suffered for the welfare of his fellow-beino's, 
thus to have brouQ-ht the tears to our dear old uncle's 
eyes ! " After looking at the picture for some mo- 
ments in silence, they began talking about it, each in 
his or her own fashion ; while Uncle Juvinell listened 
with much interest, curious to see what different 
impressions it would produce on their minds. 

" That scroll he holds in his left hand must be his 
farewell address to his army," said Daniel, the young 
historian, looking very wise. 

"What a fine long sword he carries at liis side ! " 



30 THE FARMER BOY. ' 

said Biyce, a war-like youngster who liacl just 
climbed to the summit of his ninth year, and had, as 
you must know, a wooden sword of his own, with 
wlilch he went about dealing death and destruction 
to whole regiments of cornstalks and squadrons of 
horse-weeds, calling them British and Tories. 

" How tall and grand and handsome he looks ! " 
said Laura, a prim and demure little miss of thirteen : 
"In his presence, I am sure I could never speak 
above a whisper." 

" That, yonder, among the trees and evergreens 
on the hill, must be the house where he lived," said 
Ella, a modest, sweet-mannered little lady of twelve. 
" What a beautiful place It Is ! and what a happy 
home It must have been wlien he lived In It ! " 

"And see how the hill r lopes down to the river, so 
grassy and smooth ! and such a nice place for little 
boys to roll over and over down to the bottom ! " 
said Ned, a rough-and-tumble youngster of ten, who 
spent one-half of the sunshine with lils back to the 
ground and his heels in the air. 

"And see the beautiful river so broad and so 
smooth, and the great ships afar off going down to 
the sea ! " said Johnnie, a little poet of eight, who 
passed much of his time dreaming with his eyes open. 

"And such a pretty play-house as I see there 
among the bushes on the hillside ! " said Fannie, a 
stout little matron of five, the mother of a large and 
still increasing family of dolls. 



INTKODUCTIO:?^. 31 

"That is not a play-house, Fannie, but the tomb 
where Wasliington lies buried," said Dannie with an 
air of superior wisdom. 

" What a splendid wliite horse that black man is 
holding for him ! How he bows his neck, and champs 
liis bit, and paws the ground ! " said Willie, a harum- 
scarum, neck-or-nothing young blade of fourteen, 
who would have given liis best leg to have been the 
owner of a galloping, high-headed, short-tailed pony. 

"What is he doing so far away from home without 
his hat, I wonder?" said Master Charlie, a knowing 
young gentleman of eight, who was much in the 
habit of doubting everybody's eyes and ears but his 
own. 

"How kind and good he looks out of his eyes, just 
like father!" said Mary, an affectionate and timid 
little creature of seven. 

Just then, Addison, a plump little fellow of four, 
in all the glory of his first new jacket and his first 
new breeches, w^ho was standing on the top round of 
Uncle Juvinell's chair, suddenly cried out in a very 
strong voice for his age, "Oh ! he looks just like 
Uncle Juvinell : now don't he. Cousin Mary?" 

For a man of his appearance to be thus compared 
with so stately and dignified a man as Washington 
was a thing so ludicrous, that Uncle Juvinell was 
surprised into the heartiest fit of laughter that he had 
enjoyed that day. When it was over, he bade Laura 
hang up the picture again in its accustomed place, 



32 THE FAKMER BOY. 

and began where he had left off some time before : 
" Now, my dear children, it came into my mind, 
while I was talking with yom* Cousin Dannie a little 
bit ago, that I could not tell you any thing more 
entertaining and instructive than the story of Wash- 
ington's life. It will, I am quite sure, interest you 
much : for although he was such a great man, — the 
greatest, no doubt, that ever lived, — and so awful 
to look upon, yet, for all that, liis heart was full to 
overflowing with the most tender and kindly affec- 
tions, and, if you can believe it, quite as fond of 
little children as your Uncle Juvinell ; often joining 
in their innocent sports for a whole hour at a time. 
Let me see. This is Wednesday ; and we have 
seven, eight, long holidays bQfore us to be as happy 
as skylarks in. Now, I am thinking, that, if we 
would have next New Year's Day find us better and 
wiser, we could not liit upon a more proper plan 
for beginning so desirable an end than by spending 
a part of each day in making om'selves acquainted 
with the life and character of this good and great man, 
and, at the close of each evening's lesson, talking 
over what we have learned, to our more complete 
understanding of the same. And now, my merry 
ones, speak out, and tell me what you think of it." 

" It will be just exactly the very tiling," said 
wise Daniel. 

" Glorious ! " said rollickins: Willie. 

" Charming ! " said prim and demure Miss Laura. 



INTRODUCTION. 33 



" 'Twill be delightful, I am sure," said modest 
EUa. 

" Nothing could please me better, if we have a 
good big battle now and then," said warlike Bryce. 

" I wonder if it will be as interesting as ' Kobinson 
Crusoe ' ? " put in doubting Charlie. 

" Or ^Aladdin and his Wonderful Lamp ' ? " chimed 
in dreaming Johnnie. 

"And we'll all listen, and be so good ! " said timid, 
loving littje Mary. 

" Wait a moment for me, uncle, till I run down to 
the cabin, just to see how Black Daddy's getting 
along making my sled," said hair-brained Ned. 

"And wait a little bit for me too, uncle, till I go 
and put my dolly babe . to bed ; for she might take 
the measles if I keep her up too long," said motherly 
Fannie. 

" And let me sit on your knee, uncle ; Cousin 
Mary wants my chair," said Addison, the youngest 
one of them all, at the same time climbing up, and 
getting astride of Uncle Juvinell's left fat leg. 

" Then settle yourselves at once, you noisy chatter- 
boxes," said Uncle Juvinell with a shining face ; 
" and mind you be as quiet and mute as mice at a 
cat's wedding while I am telling my story, or I'll " — 
His threat was drowned in the joyous shouts of the 
children as they scrambled into their chairs. When 
tliey had all put on a listening look, he poured out 
a little yellow, squat, Dutch mug brimful of rich 



34. THE FARJVIER BOY. 

brown elder from a big blue pitcher that Black 
Daddy had just placed on a table close at hand, and, 
having wet Im whistle therewith, began his story. 
And now and then, as the story went on, the fire, 
keeping its bright, watchful eye upon the old gentle- 
man, would wink at him in a sly manner, that seemed 
to say, "Well done. Uncle Juvinell, — very well done 
Indeed. You see, sir, I was quite right in what I 
told you. We have hit upon the very thing. The 
httle folks are enchanted : they are drawing in wis- 
dom with every breath. A merry Christmas to us 
all ! " Pop, pop ! hurrah ! pop ! 



I. 



GEORGE AT SCHOOL. 

A HUNDRED years ago or more, there stood 
on the green slopes of the Potomac, in the 
county of Westmoreland, Va., an old red farm- 
house, with a huge stone chimney at each end, and 
high gray roof, the eaves of which projected in such 
a manner as to cover a porch in front and two or 
three small shed-rooms in the rear. Now, although 
this house was built of wooden beams and painted 
boards, and was far from being what could be 
called, even for those times, a fine one, — looking 
as it did more like a barn than a dwelling for man, 
— yet, for all that, it had the honor of being the 
birthplace of the good and great George Washington, 
who is said, by many very wise persons who ought to 
know, to have been the greatest man that ever came 
into this pleasant and glorious world of ours. 

His father, Augustine Wasliingi;on, was married 
early in hfe to Jane Butler, who died after having 
borne him two sons, Lawrence and Augustine. In 
a year or two after this loss, feeling the want of 
some one to gladden liis lonely heart and home, he 

[35] 



36 THE FAEMER BOY. 

married ^lary Ball, the belle of Horseneck, and said 
to have been the most beautiful young lady in all 
that part of the country. Bythis union he was blessed 
with six children, of whom our George, the eldest, 
was born on the twenty-second day of February, in 
the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred 
and thirty-two. 

It has often appeared strange to me that notliing 
should Ibe known of this great man's life up to the 
completion of liis fifth year : and I am sorry for 
your sakes, my little ones, that such is the case ; 
for it would be such a nice beginning to our story, 
could we say with certainty that he distinguished 
himself by walldng alone at the age of five months ; 
that he could pronounce " Mother " and " Good " with 
perfect distinctness when but one year old ; that liis 
mother taught him at the age of two to kneel by 
her side, and Hsp, before going to his evening rest, 
that beautiful prayer, beginning with, " Noav I lay 
me down to sleep ;" that he rode like mad, at the age 
of three, round and round the yard, on his father's 
buckhorn-headed cane ; and that he rode on a real 
horse at the age of four, and went galloping like a 
young Tartar round and round the meadow in front 
of the house, to the delight of his young mother, 
who watched him from the window. Of all this, 
and a gi^eat deal more of the same sort, vou would, 
I doubt not, lilie much to hear, and I would like 
much to tell you ; but we must keep witliin the 



GEORGE AT SCHOOL. 37 

bounds of true history, and content ourselves with 
the knowledge of that which really did happen. 
With this safe rule for our guidance, we will there- 
fore proceed at once to take up the thread of our 
story at that period of George's boyhood, concerning 
which some certain record has come down to our time. 

At the age of five, when he was old enough to 
walk all alone for a mile or two through the woods 
and fields, liis parents started him to school one 
bright spring morning, with his little basket on his 
arm, containing his dinner and a bran-new spelling- 
book, to take liis first tiny steps in the flowery path 
of knowledge. 

His first teacher was a Mr. Hobby, an old man, 
who lived on a distant part of his father's planta- 
tion, and is said to have been besides the sexton 
or grave-digger of the neighborhood; and was, 
I have my private reasons for thinking, a broken- 
down old soldier, with a big cocked hat that shaded 
a kindly and weather-beaten face, and a wooden 
leg, — an ornament for which he was indebted to a 
cannon-ball, and took more pride in than if it had 
been a sound one of flesh and bone. . As it is rarely 
ever the case that men with wooden legs are called 
upon to fight the battles of their country, this worthy 
old man, who well knew how to read and write, and 
cipher too, must needs earn his livelihood by teaching 
school, and sowing his knowledge broadcast among 
the little children of the neighborhood. 



9 



8 THE FARMER BOY. 



Accordingly, It was to old Mr. Hobby, as every- 
body called him, that George was indebted for his 
first insight into the mysteries of book-learning ; 
and althouoh he was in due time to become the 
greatest man of this or any other age or country, 
yet he began liis education by first learning his 
ABC, just as did other boys of that day, just 
as they are now doing, and just as they will continue 
to do for all time to come. After he had taken his 
ABC into his memory, and set them there in a 
straight row each in its proper place, he was not 
long, depend upon it, in reaching the middle of his 
spelling-book ; and as soon as he could, without 
anybody's help, climb over tall and difficult words of 
five or six syllables, such as " immortality " or " re- 
sponsibility," his master put liim in the English Read- 
er, where he soon overtook and went clean ahead of 
boys a great deal older than himself. From reading, 
he In a short time rose to writing ; and It was said by 
those who knew him best, that he learned to write 
a neat round hand without ever once blotting his 
copy-book ; and furthermore, that such a thing as a 
dirty, thumb-worn, dog-eared book was never seen 
In his hand. His next step in the path of knowledge 
was arithmetic ; and, in less time than you can well 
believe, he had got the multiplication-table so tho- 
roughly by heart, that he could run over It as fast 
backwards, from tw^elve times twelve to twice one, 
as common boys straightforward, even with the 



GEORGE AT SCHOOL. 39 

open book before their eyes. So well did be study, 
that, in less than four years' time after his first start- 
ing to school, the single rule of three was no more 
to him than long division to most boys ; and he 
could repeat the tables of weights and measures 
as ghbly as you, Master Johnnie, can rattle off the 
charming story of "Old Mother Hubbard and her 
Wonderfid Dog." 

Now, the rapid progress George made in his studies 
was owing not so much to liis uncommon aptitude 
at learning as to the diligence and industry with 
which he applied himself to them. For example : 
when other boys would be staring out at the window, 
watcliing the birds and squirrels sporting among the 
tree-tops ; or sitting idly with their hands in their 
pockets, opening and shutting their jack-knives, or 
counting their marbles, or munching apples and 
corn-dodgers in a sneaking and unbecoming man- 
ner beliind their books ; or, more naughty still, shoot- 
ing paper bullets at old Hobby's wooden leg as he 
sat dozing beliind his high desk of a drowsy summer 
afternoon, — our George, with liis hands to his ears 
to keep out the schoolroom buzz, would be studying 
with all his might ; nor would he once raise his eyes 
from his book till every word of his lesson was ready 
to drop from his tongue's end of its own accord. 
So well did he apply himself, and so attentive was he 
to every thing taught liim, that, by the time he was 
ten years old, he had learned all that the poor old 



40 THE FARMER BOY. 

grave-digger knew himself; and it was this worthy 
man's boast in after-years, that he had laid the foun- 
dation of Washinoton's future g-reatness. But what 
old Wooden Leg — for so they always called him 
when his back was turned — could not teach him at 
school, little George learned at home of his father 
and mother, who were well educated for those days ; 
and many a long winter evening did these good 
parents spend in telling their children interesting and 
instructive stories of olden times, far-off countries, 
and strange people, which George would write down 
in his copy-book in his neatest, roundest hand, and 
remember ever afterward. 

A more prudent and careful father, and a more 
discreet and affectionate mother, than Mr. Washing- 
ton and his wife Mary, perhaps never lived. So 
earnest and watchful were they to bring up their 
children in the fear of the Lord, and in the practice 
of every noble virtue, that their dutiful behavior and 
sweet manners were the talk and praise of the good 
people for miles and miles around. They taught 
them to be neat and orderly in their dress, as well as 
civil and polite in their manners ; to be respectful 
to their elders ; to be kind to one another, and to 
every thing God hath made, both great and small, 
whether man or bird or beast : but chiefly were they 
concerned to teach them the love of truth, and to tell 
it at all times when it should be their duty to speak 
out, let the consequences be what they might. To 



GEORGE AT SCHOOL. 41 

show you that such wise and careful training was not 
lost on the tender mind of George, I will tell you the 
story of his little hatchet, as It may serve you good 
stead In the day when you may be tempted to wander 
astray from the path of truth and virtue. 

One Christmas Eve, when the sharp, frosty air 
made the blood brisk and lively In the veins, little 
George, who was then about six years old, hung up 
his stocking on the mantel of the huge chimney, say- 
ing to himself as he did so, " Good Santa Glaus, 
be kind to me while I am sleeping peacefully.". 
Next morning, bright and early, just as a great 
Christmas loo^ had bes^un to blaze and crackle on 
the hearth, he jumped spryly from his bed, and, 
without stopping to put on his clothes, ran to his 
stockings to see what good old Santa Glaus had 
brought him while he slept. I leave you to picture 
to your minds lils delight upon finding therein a little 
Indian tomahawk, with a brlo-ht keen edo;e and lona: 
red handle. It would have done all your hearts good 
to have seen how he skipped and danced around the 
room, and flourished his hatchet high over his head ; 
how he went showing it to every one about the house, 
wlilte and black ; praising good old Santa Claus to 
the very skies, and never once feeling the want of his 
breeches. But, between you and me, I am rather 
Inclined to suspect, that. If we had any means of 
arriving at the facts of the case. It would be found 
that Santa Claus had no more concern In this matter 



42 THE FARINIER BOY. 

than your Uncle Juvlnell himself. To my mind, 
there is more reason in the supposition, that liis father, 
seeing the jolly old saint pass by at a late hour of 
the night in an empty sleigh, and that the cliikken 
were not likely to have their stockings filled for that 
once, got up early in the morning, and put the hatchet 
in there himself, rather than that liis Httle son should 
be disappointed. 

Be this as it may, it was all the same to George ; 
and he was as happy as happy could be. At the 
breakfast-table, he could hardly eat liis bread and 
milk for lookino- at his sliiningf axe, wliich he had laid 
beside him on the table ; and, before it was fairly broad 
daylight, he was out at the wood-yard, ankle-deep in 
snow, cutting and chopping away at the hard-sea- 
soned beech and maple logs, as if it lay with liim, 
for that day at least, to keep the whole family, white 
and black, from freezing. By and by, however, he 
found this more work than play, and began to cast 
his earnest young eyjes about liim for something green 
and soft whereon to try the edge and temper of his 
hatchet. Presently, as ill-luck would have it, a fine 
young English cherry-tree, just over the fence hard 
by, caught his attention, which, without further ado, 
he fell to hacking might and main ; and the way he 
made the little chips fly was a thing surprising to 
see. 

Next morning, his father, passing by that way, saw 
the miscliief that had been done, and was sorely dis- 



GEORGE AT SCHOOL. 43 

pleased : for he had planted and reared this selfsame 
tree with the tenderest care ; and, of all the trees in 
his orchard, there was not one other he prized so 
liighly. Being quite sure that it was the work 
of some of the black children, he went straightway 
down to the negro quarter, bent on finding out, and 
bringing the unlucky culprit to a severe account. 

" Dick," said he to the first one he met, " did you 
cut that cherry-tree ? " 

" No, mauster ; don't know notliin' 'bout it," said 
Dick, showing the wliites of his eyes. 

"Did you, Sam?" said Mr. Washington, putting 
the same question to another little woolly-head. 

"No, mauster; don't know nothin' 'bout it," said 
Sam, likewise showing the whites of his eyes. 

The same question was put to Harry, who gave 
Dick and Sam's answer word for word, and, to add 
force to his denial, showed the whites of his eyes in 
like manner ; and so on, till more than a dozen had 
been questioned w4th the same ro^ult ; when it came 
to Jerry's turn to make denial, and show the wliites 
of his eyes. 

Now, you must know there was not a more auda- 
cious, mischief-making, neck-or-nothing black brat 
than tliis same Jerry to be found on the banks of the 
Rappahannock, which is a very long river indeed. 
As a fish hves in water, or a salamander in fire, so 
did Jerry Hve and breathe, and have liis being, in mis- 
cliief ; or, in other words, miscliief w^as the element 



44 * THE FAHMEK BOY. 

in which Jerry found his chief dehght. If any mis- 
hap befell, anybody or any thing, at any hour of the 
day or night, on any part of the plantation, on foot 
or on horseback, at rest or in niDtion, it was sure to 
be brought and laid at Jerry's door. Being aware 
of all this, Mr. Wasliington was now quite sure, that, 
as none of the rest had cut the cherry-tree, Jerry 
himself must be the offender ; and so he put the ques- 
tion- to him ; to which .Jerry, showing the whites of 
liis eyes, made answer, "No, mauster ; I didn't cut 
the cherry-tree : indeed, indeed, and double deed, I 
didn't cut the cherry-tree." 

" Ah ! Jerry," said his master, " if you always told 
the truth, I should know when to believe you ; but, 
as you do not, you must take the consequences 
of your evil ways, and blame nobody but your- 
self." 

Upon hearing tliis, Jerry began dancing and hop- 
ping around the room in a very brisk and lively 
manner, even before his master was within ten feet 
of him, as if he already felt the switch about his 
legs. 

Just then, in the very nick of time, George came 
walldng leisurely by, hatchet in hand ; who, upon see- 
ing how matters stood, without a moment's hesitation, 
ran up to his father, and, dropping liis hatchet, caught 
him round the leg, just as the first stroke of the 
switch was about to descend on the calves of the un- 
lucky Jerry. 



GEORGE AT SCHOOL. 45 

"O papa, papa!" cried he, "don't wliip poor 
Jerry : if somebody must be whipped, let it be me ; 
for it was I, and not Jerry, that cut the cherry-tree. 
I didn't know how much harm I was doing ; I didn't 
indeed." And the child began crying piteously. 

With a look of glad surprise, his father, dropping 
the switch, caught his brave little boy in his arms, 
and folded liim tenderly, lovingly, to his bosom. 
"Now, thanks be to God," cried he, "thanks be to 
God, that I have a son whose love of truth is greater 
than his fear of punishment ! Look on him, my 
black children, look on him, and be as near like him 
as you can, if you would have the love of yom' mas- 
ter and the good- will of all around you." 

Seeing the unlooked-for turn the affair had taken, 
and not having the words to express the feelings of 
joy and thankfidness that swelled almost to bursting 
in his little black breast, Jerry darted through the 
door, out into the yard, kicked up his heels, yelped 
like a young dog, threw a somerset in the snow, 
and went rolHng over and over down to the bottom 
of the hill, and ever after loved his noble little master 
to distraction. 



II. 



THE FIRST SORROW. 



WHEN George had learned all that poor old 
Hobby could teach him, his father, to re- 
ward liim for his diligence and good behavior at school, 
indulged liim in two or three weeks' holidays, which 
he went to spend at a .distance from home, among 
some friends and relatives. Here, as usual, he was 
made much of; for, being a great favorite with all who 
knew him, he met with a cordial reception wherever 
he went ; and what Avith hunting and fishing, riding 
and visiting, the time spent here was the most de- 
lightful he had ever known. But hardly had half the 
happy days flown by, when word came that his father 
was sick, even unto death ; and that, of all things, 
he most desired to look upon his noble boy once more 
before he died. With a sadness and heaviness of 
heart he had never before experienced, George set out 
on his return home, where he arrived just in time to 
receive his dying father's blessing. Long and deeply 
did he mourn his loss ; for his father was most ten- 
derly beloved by his children, and greatly esteemed 

[46] 



THE FIRST SORROW. 47 

bj his friends and neighbors as a useful member of 
society, and a man of many sterling traits of cha- 
racter. 

Mrs. Washington was thus left a young widow 
with a large family of young children, whom it now 
became her duty to provide for and educate in a man- 
ner becomino^ a Christian mother ; and how well and 
faithfully and lovingly she discharged this sacred trust, 
is most beautifully set forth in the life and character 
of her great son. She was a woman of uncommon 
strength and clearness of understanding, and her 
heart was the home of every pure and noble virtue. 
She was mild, but firm ; generous, but just ; candid 
whenever she deemed it her duty to speak her mind, 
but never losing sight of the respect and considera- 
tion due to the feelings and opinions of others. She 
was gentle and loving with her children, yet exacting 
from them in return the strictest obedience to her 
will and wishes. But of all virtues most sacred in 
her eyes was that of the love of truth, which she 
ever sought to miplant in their minds ; assuring 
them, that, without it, all other virtues were but as 
unprofitahle weeds, barren of fruits and flowers. 
She was simple and dignified in her manners, and 
had a hearty dislike for every thing savoring of parade 
and idle show. She always received her friends and 
visitors with a cordial smile of welcome, spreading 
before them with an unsparing hand the best her 
house afforded : but, when they rose to depart, she 



48 THE FAKMER BOY. 

would invite them once, and once only, to stay longer ; 
and, if after this they still seemed bent on going, she 
would do all in her power to speed them on their 
journey. With so many traits betokening strength 
of mind and character, she had but one weakness ; 
and tliis was her excessive dread of thunder, caused 
in early maidenhood by seeing a young lady struck 
dead at her side by lightning. 

And such was Mary, the mother of Washington ; 
and seldom indeed has her like been seen. As her 
husband, by industry and prudent management, had 
gathered together enough of the riches of this world to 
leave each of liis children a fine plantation, she was not 
hindered by straitened circumstances, or anxiety as to 
their means of future^ support, from giving her chief 
attention to such bodily and mental training as should 
have a lasting tendency to make them, in more mature 
years, healthy, virtuous, and wise. 

It has been often remarked, that those men who 
have most distinguished themselves in the world's his- 
tory for noble thoughts and heroic deeds, have, as a 
general thing, inherited those qualities of mind and 
heart which made them great, from then' mothers, 
rather than from their fathers ; and also that their 
efforts to Improve and elevate the condition of their 
fellow-beino^s have been owino- in a laro;er measure 
to the lessons of truth, piety, and industry, taught 
them by their mothers in childliood and early youth. 
If this be the case, then how much are we indebted 



THE FIRST SOEROW.. 49 

for the freedom, prosperity, and happiness we now 
enjoy above other nations of the earth, to Mary, the 
mother of Washington ! Perhaps, to give you a 
still more forcible Idea of the characters of both 
mother and son, and of the wholesome effects on him 
of her judicious training, I ought to relate in this 
place the story of his attempt at taming the sorrel 
horse. 

A fine horse was an object that afforded ^irs. 
Washington, as it did the other substantial Yirglnia 
ladies of that day, quite as much, if not more, real 
pleasure than their more delicate grand-daughters 
of the present now find in their handsome carriages, 
lap-dogs, and canary-birds. So great was her fond- 
ness for tills noble animal, that she usually suffered 
two or three of her finest to run in a meadow in front 
of the house, where she might look at them from 
time to time as she sat sewing at her dining-room 
window. One of these was a young sorrel horse, of 
great beauty of form, and fleetness of foot, but of so 
wild and vicious a nature, that, for fear of accident, 
she had forbidden any one to mount him, although 
he had already reached his full height and size. 

Now, you must know that a bolder and more skil- 
ful rider than George was not to be found in all the 
Old Dominion, as Vu'glnla is sometimes called ; and 
it was this early practice that afterwards won for 
him the name of being the finest horseman of his 
day. Often, as we may very naturally suppose to 

3 



50 THE FAKMER BOY. 

have been the case, would he reason thus with hhn- 
self, as, sitting on the topmost rail of a worm fence, 
he watched the spirited young animal frisking and 
boundino: about the field in all the freedom of his 
untamed nature : "If I were but once upon his back, 
with a strong bit in his mouth, believe me, I would 
soon make him a thing of use as well as ornament ; 
and it would, I am sure, be such a pleasant surprise 
to mother to look fron* her window some fine morn- 
ing, and see me mounted on his back, and managing 
him with ease, and to know that it was I who had 
subdued his proud spirit." 

Accordingly, full of these thoughts, he arose 
early one bright summer morning, and in^ated two 
or three friends of his own age, then on a visit at his 
mother's house, to go with him to the fields, to share 
with him the sport, or lend their aid in carrying out 
his design, should it be found too difficult and haz- 
ardous for himself alone. They needed no second 
bidding, these young madcaps, to whom nothing 
could be more to their liking than such wild sport. 
So at it they went ; and after a deal of chasing and 
racing, heading and doubhng, falling down and pick- 
ing themselves up again, and more shouting and 
laughing than they had breath to spare for, they at 
last succeeded in driving the panting and affi-ighted 
young animal into a corner. Here, by some means 
or other (it was difficult to tell precisely how) , they 
managed to bridle liim, althouo^h at no small risk of 



THE FIRST SOEROW. 51 

a broken head or two from his heels, that he seemed 
to fling about him in a dozen different directions at 
once. Having thus made liim their captive, they led 
him out to the more open parts of the field, where 
George requested his friends to hold him till he could 
get on his back. But the wild and unruly spirit the 
young beast had shown that morning had so dismayed 
them, that they flatly refused to comply ; begging him 
not to tliink of attempting it, as it would be at the 
risk of life or limb. But George was not to be 
daunted by such trifles ; and seeing that his blood 
was up, and knowing that, when this was the case with 
him, he was not to be turned aside from his purpose, 
they at length yielded unwilling consent to his en- 
treaties ; and, giving liim the required aid, he was soon 
mounted. 

This was an insult the proud-spirited animal could 
not brook ; and he began plunging and rearing in a 
manner so frightful to behold, that they who watched 
the struggle for mastery expected every moment to 
see the daring young rider hurled headlong to the 
ground. But he kept his seat unmoved and firm as 
an iron statue on an iron horse. At length, however, 
the horse, clinching the bit between his teeth, became 
for a time unmanageable, and sped away over the 
field on the wings of the wind ; till, making a false 
step, he staggered and plunged, rallied again, stag- 
gered, and, with the red life-stream gushing from liis 
nostrils, dropped down dead. 



52 THE FAKMER BOY. 

George sprang from the ground unharmed : but, 
when he saw the noble young animal stretched out 
smoking and bloody and lifeless before him, tears of 
pity filled liis eyes ; and still faster did they flow 
when he thought of the grief it would occasion his 
mother, w^hen she should hear how her beautiful favo- 
rite had come to his end. His companions now 
rejoining liim, they all, with sad misgiving in their 
hearts, returned to the house, where Mrs. Washing- 
ton met them with a cheerful good-morning, and, 
when they had taken their seats at the breakfast-table, 
began talking with them in her usual lively and 
entertaining manner, until the dreaded question came : 
"Well, young gentlemen," said she, "have you seen 
any thing of my sorrel horse in your walks this morn- 
ing?" 

The boys looked at one another for some moments 
in silence, scarce knowing what answer to make. At 
last, George, to put an end to the painful suspense, 
said in a subdued voice, " Mother, the sorrel horse is 
dead." He then, in a few brief words, told her how 
it had all happened, and ended by entreating her 
forgiveness if he had oiFended ; at the same time 
assuring her, that, in so doing, he had only thought 
of giving her a pleasant surprise. 

When he first began his account of the mishap, a 
flush of anger rose to his mother's cheek ; of wliich, 
however, there was not a trace to be seen by the 
time he had finished ; and she answered, with some- 



THE FIRST SORROW. 53 

thing like an approving smile, " My son, as you have 
had the courage to come and tell me the truth at 
once, I freely forgive you : had you skulked away, I 
would have despised you, and been ashamed to own 
you as my son." 



III. 



PLAYmG SOLDIER. 

s 

AFTER the death of her husband, ]Mrs. Wash- 
ington left the care and education of her son 
George, in no small measure, to the judgment and 
discretion of her step-son Lawrence, a young man 
of twenty-five, and lately married to Miss Fairfax. 
The love that had always existed between these two 
brothers was something beautiful indeed to behold, — 
the more so when we take into consideration the dif- 
ference of fourteen years in their ages ; and, now 
that their dear father was no more, this love grew 
all the more tender and strong, and George soon 
learned to look up to his eldest brother as to a second 
father. 

Mr. Lawrence Washington, besides being a fine 
scholar and one of the most polished gentlemen of 
his day, was also a brave and able soldier ; havino- 
served during the late Spanish war as a lieutenant 
under the great Admiral Vernon, in honor of whom 
he had named his fine estate on the Potomac, IMount 
Vernon. 

[54] 



PLAYING SOLDrER. 55 

^^ At Mount Yernon, then, we find George spending 
by far the greater portion of his holidays ; and here 
he often fell in with young officers, fellow-soldiers 
of his brother, to whom with eager ears he was wont 
to listen as they recounted their adventures, and told 
of hard-fought battles by land and sea wfth the 
roving pirates, or sea-robbers, and proud and venge- 
ful Spaniards. These stories so fired his ardent 
young spirit, that he longed of all things to become 
a great soldier, that he might go forth to fight the 
enemies of liis country, wherever they were to be 
found, and drive them from the face of the wide 
earth. To give these feelings some relief, he would 
muster his little school-fellows at play-time, and take 
them through the lessons of a military drill ; showing 
them how to fire and fall back, how to advance and 
retreat, how to form in line of march, how to pitch 
their tents for a night's encampment, how to lay an 
Indian ambuscade, how to scale a wall, how to storm 
a battery ; and, in short, forty other evolutions not 
to be found in any work on military tactics ever 
written, and at wliich old Wooden Leg, had he been 
there, would have shaken his cocked hat with a 
dubious look. Then dividing them into two opposing 
armies, with himself at the head of one, and the tall- 
est boy of the school leading on the other, he would 
incite them to fight sham battles with wooden swords, 
wooden guns, snow-balls, and such other munitions 
of war as came most readily to hand ; in which 



56 THE FARRIER BOY. 

George, no matter what might be the odds against 
him, or what superior advantages the enemy might 
have in weapons or ground, was always sure to come 
oiF victorious. 

He was a handsome boy, uncommonly tall, strong, 
and active for his age ; could out-run, out-jump, 
out-ride any boy three years older than himself; 
and, in wrestling, there was not one in a hundred 
who could bring his back to the ground. Many 
stories are told of his wonderful strength ; and the 
spot is still shown, where, when a boy, he stood on 
the banks of the Rappahannock River, and, at its 
widest part, threw a stone to the opposite side, — a 
feat that no one has been found able to perform since 
that day. It was said, that, a few years later, he 
stood under the Natural Bridge, and threw a silver 
dollar upon the top of it, — a height of two hundred 
and twenty feet ; not less than that of Bunker-hill 
Monument, and more than double that of the tallest 
hickory that ever hailed down its ripened nuts- upon 
your heads. Although there were none more stu- 
dious than he in the schoolroom, yet he always took 
the keenest delight in every kind of active and manly 
sport, and was the acknowledged leader of the play- 
ground. But he had qualities of mind and heart far 
more desirable and meritorious than those of mere 
bodily activity and strength. Such was his love of 
truth, his strong sense of justice, and his clearness 
of judgment, that, when any dispute arose between 



PLAYING SOLDIER. 57 

his playmates, they always appealed to him to decide 
the difference between them, as willing to abide by 
his decision, and make it their law. Although he 
had the courage of a young lion, and was even more 
than a match in strength for many an older boy, he 
was never known to have a fight at school, nor else- 
where indeed, that I have ever heard ; for such was 
the respect he ever showed to the feelings and wishes 
of others, that he never gave an insult, and, depend 
upon it, never received one. 

The hiofh oTound of !Mount Yernon commands a 
splendid view of the Potomac up and down for miles, 
where it makes a noble bend, and winds its shining 
course amidst verdant meadow-slopes and richly 
wooded hills. Now and then, in the course of the 
year, some noble ship, with all its sails outspread and 
gay banners fluttering to the breeze, might be seen 
moving down the majestic stream, hastening in its 
pride and strength to stem the billows of the mighty 
ocean. With the keenest of delight none but the 
young and daring mind can ever know, George, as 
he stood on the piazza in front of his brother's man- 
sion, would watch them with wishful eyes, until a 
bend of the river hid their lofty masts behind the 
green tops of the yet more lofty hills between. Then 
would there awaken in his heart an earnest longing 
to become a sailor ; to go forth in some gallant ship 
upon the face of the great deep ; to visit those far-off* 
countries, where he might behold with his own eyes 

3* 



58 THE FARRIER BOY. 

those wonders he had read so much of in books. At 
such times, it may be, there would arise in his mind 
enchanting visions of some desert island, upon whose 
lonely rocky shores he might some day have the rare 
good fortune of being thrown by the angry billows, 
there to dwell, like another Robinson Crusoe, many, 
many years, with no other company than talking 
birds, skipping goats, and dancing cats, and, if so 
lucky, a good man Friday, to be rescued by his 
daring from the bloody crutches of the terrible 
cannibals. 

Lawrence Washino;ton was not lono; in discoverino- 

CD O O 

the thoughts that were uppermost in the mind of the 
adventurous boy ; and, like the generous brother that 
he was, resolved that, should an opportunity offer, 
a wish so natural should be gratified. In a short 
time after, George being then about fourteen years 
of age, a British man-of-war moved up the Potomac, 
and cast anchor in full view of Mount Yernon. On 
board of this vessel his brother Lawrence procured 
him a midshipman's warrant, after having by much 
persuasion gained the consent of his mother ; which, 
however, she yielded with much reluctance, and 
many misgivings with respect to the profession her 
son was about to choose. Not knowing how much 
pain all this was giving his mother, George was as 
near wild with delight as could well be with a boy 
of a nature so even and steady. Now, what had all 
along been but a wakino^ dream was about to become 



PLAYING SOLDIER. 59 

a wide-awake reality. His preparations were soon 
made : already was his trunk packed, and carried on 
board the ship that was to bear him so far away 
from his native land ; and nothing now.remained but 
to bid farewell to the loved ones at home. But when 
he came and stood before his mother, dressed in his 
gay midshipman's uniform, so tall and robust in 
figure, so handsome in face, and so noble in look 
and gesture, the thought took possession of her mind, 
that, if she suffered him to leave her then, she might 
never see him more ; and, losing her usual firmness 
and self-control, she burst into tears. 

"Deeply do I regret, my dear son," said she, "to 
disappoint you in a wish you have so near at heart : 
but I find I cannot bring myself to give you up yet ; 
for, young as you are, your aid and counsel have 
already become to me of the greatest service and 
comfort ; and these little fatherless ones, now weep- 
ing around you, have learned to look up to you as 
their protector and guide. You know too little of 
the ways of the world, and are too young and inex- 
perienced, to go forth to endure its hardships, and 
battle with its temptations, that lie in wait on every 
side to entrap the imwary, and lead them down to 
destruction. Without you, our home wovild be lonely 
indeed : then, for your mother's sake, and for the 
sake of these little ones, give up your darling scheme, 
for the present at least, that we may all be happy 
at home once more together." 



60 THE FARMER BOY. 

Thus entreated, what could he do but yield con- 
sent to the wishes of a loving and prudent mother, 
and remain at home? where, in a few days, his noble 
self-denial was rewarded with a sweet contentment 
of mind that he could never have known had he left 
the dear ones in sorrow behind him, and gone forth 
to spend months and years upon the billows of 
the lonely seas. Surely a kind Heaven so ordered 
that the welfare and happiness of us Americans, and, 
it may be, that of the whole world, should be made 
to depend upon the promptings of a mother's love ; 
for had the boy Washington realized this early 
dream, and gone forth in that gallant ship, he might 
have perished in the stormy deep, and we had never 
known the name we now love so much to praise and 
venerate. Or, by his distinguished abilities, he might 
have risen to become in time the Lord Hio^h Admiral 
of the British Navy ; and, instead of being set apart 
to the salvation of his native land, might have been 
made an instrument to its destruction, impossible 
as such an event may now appear to us, with our 
knowledge of the glorious work he did perform when 
in the fulness of his strength and years, and accus- 
tomed as we are to behold in him our model of all 
that is great and virtuous in mankind. 



\ 



IV. 

"eiiLes of behavior." 

FOR the five years following his father's death, 
George made his home at the house of his half- 
brother, Augustine Washmgton, at a considerable 
distance from his mother's, where he might have the 
benefit of a better school which that neighborhood 
afforded. His new schoolmaster was a Mr. Wil- 
liams, a very worthy man ; who, however, although 
he knew a vast deal more than Mr. Hobby, the poor 
old grave-digger, was far from being w^hat we might 
call a first-rate scholar. But what his teacher lacked 
in learning, George made up in diligence, and the 
most judicious use of every means of self-improve- 
ment within his reach. And here, my dear children J 
let me remind you of a thing woxthy of your remem- 
brance through life, that success in the pursuit of 
knowledge depends far less upon the ability and skill 
of the teacher, than upon the industry, perseverance, 
and willing application of the learner. 

Under the instruction of this, his second and last ] 
teacher, George got a little insight into English ■ 
grammar, read some history, became well acquainted 

[61] 



62 THE FARMER BOY. 

with geography, completely mastered arithmetic, and 
made handsome progress in geometry and trigonome- 
try ; which, as you must know, are higher branches 
of mathematics than arithmetic, and far more difficult 
to comprehend. In connection with the two latter, 
he studied surveying ; by which is taught, as you 
must continue to bear in mind hereafter, the mea- 
surement of land. 

When he had advanced so far in this study as to 
give him some idea of the proper use and handling 
of the chain and compass, the two principal instru- 
ments employed in this art, he began to put his 
knowledge into practice by taking surveys of the 
farms lying in the immediate neighborhood of his 
schoolhouse, and also of the lands belonging to the 
estate of Mount Vernon. 

Assisted by his schoolmates, he would follow up, 
and measure off with the help of his long steel chain, 
the boundary lines between the farms, such as fences, 
roads, and waterco,urses ; then those dividing the 
different parts of the same farm ; determining at 
the same time, with the help of his compass, their 
various courses, their crooks and windings, and the 
angles formed at their points of meeting or intersec- 
tion. This would enable him to get at the shape 
and size not only of each farm, but of every meadow, 
field, and wood composing It. This done, he would 
make a map or drawing on paper of the land sur- 
veyed, whereon would be clearly traced the lines 



"kules of behavior." «i3 

dividing the different parts, with the name and num- 
ber of acres of each attached ; while, on the opposite 
page, he would write down the long and difficult 
tables of figures by wliich these results had been 
reached. All tliis he would execute with as much 
neatness and accuracy as if it had been left with him 
to decide thereby some gravely disputed land-claim. 

To quahfy himself for the management of business 
affairs upon reacliing the age of manhood, he would 
copy off into a blank-book every form or instrument 
of writing he would meet with ; such as deeds, wills, 
notes of hand, bills of exchange, receipts, bonds, 
land-warrants, &c., &c. And, what was still more 
remarkable in a boy of thirteen, he wrote down, 
under the head of what he called " Rules of Behavior 
in Company and Conversation," such wise maxuns, 
and lines of wholesome advice, as he would pick up 
from time to time in the course of liis readino* or 
observation, to aid him in forming habits of industry, 
politeness, and morality. Some of these rules, your 
Uncle Juvinell, with an eye mainly to your well- 
being, will repeat to you ; for, when but a boy, he 
got them by heart, well knowing, that, without some 
such aid, he would find it hard, if not impossible, to 
so order his walks throuoh life as to win and deserve 
the esteem and confidence of his fellow-men, as well 
as the blessing and approbation of his Maker. And 
now that he has reached the evening of his days, and 
is well assured that the daily observance of these 



64 THE FAEMER BOY. 

rules has made him a wiser, a better, and a happier 
man, he would most earnestly advise all his friends, 
great or small, but especially small, be they boys or 
girls, to pursue the like course, if they would be 
favored of Heaven in the like manner. Here they 
are : — 

" 1. Every action in company ought to be with some 
sign of respect to those present. 

" 2. In the presence of others, sing not to yourself with 
a humming noise, nor drum with your lingers or feet. 

" 3. Speak not when others speak, sit not when others 
stand, speak not when you should hold your peace, walk 
not when others stop. 

" 4. Turn not your back to others, especially in speak- 
ing ; jog not the table or desk on which another reads or 
writes ; lean not on any one. 

"5. Be not a flatterer ; neither play with any one that 
delights not to be played with. 

" 6. Show not yourself glad at the misfortune of another, 
thougli he were your enemy. 

" 7. It is good manners to prefer them to whom we 
speak before ourselves, especially if they be above us ; with 
whom in no sort ouoht we to beojin. 

" 8. Strive not with your superiors in an argument, but 
always submit your judgment to others wdth modesty. 

" 9. Undertake not to teach your equal in the art him- 
self professes ; for it is immodest and presumptuous. 

" 1 0. When a man does all he can, though it succeeds 
not well, blame not him that did it. 

"11. Before you advise or find fault with any one, con- 
sider whether it ought to be in public or in private, pre- 



"rules of behavior." 65 

sently or at some other time, in what terms to do it ; and, 
in reproving, show no signs of anger, but do it with sweet- 
ness and mildness. 

" 12. Take all advice thankfully, in what time or place 
soever given ; but afterwards, not being blamable, take 
a time or place convenient to let him know it that 
gave it. 

" 13. Mock not in jest at any thing of importance : if 
you deliver any thing witty and pleasant, abstain from 
laughing thereat yourself. 

" 1 4. Wherein you reprove another, be unblamable 
yourself; for example is better than precept. 

" 15. Use no reproachful language against any one ; 
neither cm'se nor revile. 

" 16. Be not hasty to believe flying reports to the injury 
of any. 

" 17. In your apparel, be modest, and endeavor to 
accommodate yourself to nature, rather than to procure 
admiration ; keep to the fashion of your equals, such as 
are civil and orderly, with respect to time and places. 

" 18. Play not the peacock, looking everywhere about 
you to see if you be well decked, if your shoes fit well, if 
your pantaloons sit neatly, and clothes handsomely. 

"19. Associate yourself with men of good quality, if 
you esteem your reputation ; for it is better to be alone 
than in bad company. 

" 20. Let your conversation be without malice or envy, 
for it is a sign of a kindly and commendable nature ; and, 
in all causes of passion, admit reason to govern. 

"21. Be not immodest in urging a friend to make 
known a secret. 

"22. Utter not base and frivolous things amongst grave 



QG THE FARMER BOY. 

and learned men, nor very difficult questions or subjects 
amono; the io-norant, nor thins^s hard to believe. 

" 23. Speak not of doleful things in time of mirth, nor 
at the table ; speak not of melancholy things, as death and 
wounds ; and, if others mention them, change, if you can, 
the discourse. Tell not your dreams but to your intimate 
friend. 

" 24. Break not a jest, when none take pleasure in 
mirth ; laugh not loud, nor at all, without occasion ; de- 
ride no man's misfortune, though there seem to be some 
cause. 

" 25. Speak not injurious words, neither in jest nor 
earnest'; scoff at none, although they give occasion. 

" 26. Seek not to lessen the merits of others ; neither 
give more th^^n due praise. 

"27. Go not thither where you know not whether you 
shall be welcome. Give not advice without being asked ; 
and, when desired, do it briefly. 

" 28. Reprove not the imperfections of others ; for that 
belongs to parents, masters, and superiors. 

" 29. Gaze not on the marks or blemishes of others, 
and ask not how they came. What you may speak in 
secret to your friend, deliver not before others. 

" 30. Think before you speak ; pronounce not iraper-. 
fectly^ nor bring out your words too hastily, but orderly 
and distinctly. 

"31. When another speaks, be attentive yourself, and 
disturb not the audience. If any hesitate in his words, 
help him not nor prompt him without being desired ; 
interrupt him not nor answer him until his speech be ended. 

" 32. Treat with men at right times about business, and 
whisper not in the company of others. 



"eules of behavioe." 67 

" 33. Be not in haste to relate news, if you know not . 
the truth thereof. 

" 34. Be not curious to know the affairs of others ; 
neither approach those that speak in private. 

"35. Undertake not what you cannot perform, but be 
careful to keep your promise. 

" 36. When your masters or superiors talk to anybody, 
hearken not, nor speak or laugh. 

" 37. Speak not evil of the absent ; for it is unjust. 

" 38. Make no show of taking delight in your victuals ; 
feed not with greediness ; cut your food with a knife, and 
lean not on the table ; neither find fault with what you 
eat. 

"39. Be not angry at the table, whatever happens ; 
and, if you have reason to be so, show it not, but put on a 
cheerful face, especially if there be strangers ; for good 
himior makes of one dish a feast. 

" 40. If you speak of God or his attributes, let it be 
seriously, in reverence ; and honor and obey your parents. 

" 41. Let your recreations be manful, not sinful. 

" 42. Labor to keep in your breast that little spark of 
celestial fii"e called conscience." 

Now, does it not strike you, my dear children, as 
being most truly wonderful that it should have ever 
entered the mind of a boy of thirteen to lay down for 
his own guidance and self-improvement such rules 
and principles as these I have just repeated? It 
certainly must. And yet when I tell you that he 
strictly adhered to them through life, and squared 
his conduct by them daily, you will, no doubt, think 



N 



Q8 THE FARMER BOY. 

it quite unreasonable that he could have been other 
than the good and great man he was. 

These writings I have mentioned filled several 
quires of paper ; and together with his business 
jmpers, letters, journals, and account-books, written 
later in Hfe, and with the same neatness and preci- 
sion, are still preserved at Mount Vernon with pious 
care ; and are even now to be seen by those who go 
on pilgrimages to that sacred spot, although, since 
many of them were penned, more than a hundred 
years have come and gone. 

And thus, my children, you have seen young 
Washington, at an age when most boys are wasting 
their precious hours In Idle sports, seeldng to acquire 
those habits of industry, punctuality, and method, 
which afterwards enabled him so to economize time 
and labor as to do with ease and expedition what 
others did with difficulty and tardiness. You have 
seen him making the best use of the slender means 
wltliin his reach for storing his mind with those trea- 
sures of knowledge, and schooling his heart in the 
daily practice of those exalted virtues, which, after a 
life well spent and work well done, make good his 
title to the name he bears, — the greatest and the 
wisest of human kind. 

At last, the day came when George was to leave 
school for ever ; and a day of sorroAv it was to his 
school-fellows, who parted from liim with many an 
affectionate wisli, and, as we are told, even with 



"rules of behavior." 69 

tears ; so greatly had he endeared himself to them by 
his noble disposition, gentle manners, and earnest 
desire to do as he would be done by, which appeared 
in all his words and actions. In these regrets, Mr. 
Wilhams, his worthy schoolmaster, also shared ; and 
it gave him in after-life, when his little George had 
become the great Washington, the most heartfelt 
pleasure to say, that it had never been his privilege 
to teach another pupil who could at all compare with 
him for diligence in application, aptitude in learning, 
docility of disposition, manly generosity, courage, 
and truth. 



V. 



IN THE WILDERNESS. 



EXTENDING from the Eappaliannock to the 
Potomac, and stretching away beyond the 
Blue Ridge far into the Alleghany Mountains, there 
lay at this time an immense tract of forest land, 
broken only here and there by a little clearing, in 
the midst of which stood the rude log-cabin of some 
hardy backwoodsman. This large body of land — 
the largest, indeed, ever owned by any one man in 
Virginia — was the property of a great Enghsh 
nobleman named Lord Fairfax, an old bachelor of 
eccentric habits and strange opinions, but of a highly 
cultivated understanding, and, Avhen it so pleased 
him, of polite and elegant address. His stature was 
lofty, — far above that of the common run of men. 
He was a keen sportsman, had a fund of whimsical 
humor, and, in his odd way, showed himself pos- 
sessed of a kindly and generous heart; sometimes 
making a tenant or poor friend the present of a large 
farm, without requiring any thing in return but a 
haunch of venison or a fat wild turkey for his next 
Christmas dinner. 

[70] 



IN THE WILDERNESS. 71 

Havlns: heard that settlements were beino^ made in 
the most fertile valleys of his wild domain, he had 
lately come over from the mother-country to inquire 
into the matter, and make suitable provision against 
any future encroachments of the kind upon his rights. 
He now beheld his forest possessions for the first 
time ; and so charmed was he with the wild beauty 
of the scenery, and so won over by enticing visions 
of fisliing and hunting, conjured up by the sight of 
the wavino; woods and runnino; streams, that he re- 
solved to leave his native land for ever, and take up 
his abiding-place for the rest of his days amid those 
leafy solitudes. Accordingly, he betook himself, 
with all his negro servants (numbering one hundred 
and fifty) , and a few white dependants-, to the beau- 
tiful Yalley of the Shenandoah, lying between the 
Blue Ridge and the Alleghany Mountains ; where he 
soon cleared a large plantation, and built thereon a 
house, to which he gave the name of Greenway 
Court. 

From that time forward, this became his fixed 
abode ; but, as he had more land than a thousand 
men could put to any good use, he was quite will- 
ing to dispose of all, except what lay for a few 
miles immediately around Greenway Court, at rea- 
sonable rates, to such honest persons as were willing 
to buy it and make it their future home. But, in 
order that no misunderstanding might arise hereafter 
between the parties concerned with respect to the 



72- THE FARMER BOY. 

* 

boundary-line and number of acres bought and sold, 
it was necessary, in the first place, to have the land 
surveyed, and divided into lots of convenient sizes for 
farms. 

Now, you must know that old Lord Fairfax was a 
distant relative of Mrs. Lawrence Washington, and 
had, as a natural consequence, often met our George 
at Mount Vernon ; and so struck was he with the 
manly bearing, high character, good sense, and 
mathematical skill, of the fah'-haired, blue-eyed youth, 
that he offered him, young as he was, the place of 
surveyor of all his vast lands. Being the son of a 
widowed mother, and earnestly desirous of aiding her 
all in liis power, and earning for himself an honest 
independence, George was but too happy to accept 
of the offer ; and the necessary arrangements were 
soon made. Having provided himself with all tilings 
needful for the new enterprise, — such as a horse, a 
rifle, a blanket, and a steel chain and compass, — he 
set out, at the head of a small party of hunters and 
backwoodsmen, upon tliis his first considerable, field 
of labor, early in the spring of 1748, just one month 
from the completion of his sixteenth year. 

They were soon in the depths of the wilderness, 
miles beyond the most distant frontier settlements. 
The snows of winter that still lingered on the moun- 
tains, warmed by the softer airs of early spring, had 
melted so rapidly of late as to swell the forest streams 
to a degree that rendered their fording often difficult, 



IN THE WILDERNESS. 73 

and even sometimes dangerous. Now and then, com- 
ing to a stream which had overflowed Its banks, the 
httle party would be obliged to construct a raft of 
logs, roughly lashed together with grape-vines, upon 
wlilch they could push to the opposite side, without 
getting their baggage wet, and, at the same time, 
compel their horses to swim along behind. Their 
way was often obstructed by the trunks and branches 
of fallen trees, thickets tangled and dense and thorny, 
huge and rugged rocks, and treacherous swamps, 
covered with long, green grass, into wlilch the horses, 
stepping unawares, would suddenly plunge up to the 
saddle-gu*ths in water and mire. 

For some time, they lodged in wigwams or huts, 
rudely framed of poles, and covered with the bark of 
trees ; which served the purpose well enough when 
the weather was dry and still, but were often beaten 
down and overturned by the winds and rains when 
their shelter was most needed. After two or three 
of these rickety shanties had been tumbled about 
their heads, to the no small risk of life or limb, they 
wisely concluded to abandon them, and sleep in the 
open air, with the twinkling stars above them, the 
gray old trees around them, and the damp, cold 
ground beneath them, with notliing between but 
their good blankets, and the dead, dry leaves of 
autumn heaped together ; and lucky was he who got 
the place nearest the fire, or could put the mossy 
trunk of a fallen tree between him and the biting 



74 THE FARMER BOY. 

blast, or, better still, could boast a bearskin for lils 
bed. A little before sunset, they would halt for the 
nio-ht in some sheltered spot, convenient to a running 
stream ; where, turning their horses loose to graze 
till morning, they would build a cheerful fire of the 
dry brushwood close at hand, and prepare their even- 
ing meal, which they would eat with a keenness of 
appetite known only to the tired and hungry hunter. 
Each man was his own cook ; then- food consisting 
cliiefly of venison and wild turkey their rifles pro- 
cured them, and fish drawn from the neighboring 
brook, which they would broil on the glowing coals, 
fastened to a forked stick Instead of a spit, and then 
eat It from a maple cliip, instead of a dish. If the 
season permitted them to add to this a hatful of ber- 
ries that grew on the sunny side of the hill, or acorns 
from the mountain-oak, or nuts from the. hickory- 
tree, or, more delicious still, plums, persimmons, and 
pawpaws, that grew In the more open parts of the 
woods, they made of it a dainty feast indeed. 

Now and then, in the course of this rambling life 
in the wilderness, they met with roving bands of 
skin-clad Indians, either as warriors out upon the 
war-path against some distant tribe, or as hunters 
roaming the forest in quest of game. One evening, 
late, as our little party of surveyors were about to 
encamp for the night, they spied through the trees 
the gllnnnering light of a large fire on the top of a 
far-olF hill. Cinlous to know who, besides them- 



IN THE WILDERNESS. 75 

selves, could be in that lonely place, they determined 
to go tliither before stopping ; and, guided by the 
light, reached ere long the spot, where they found a 
small squad of Indian hunters, resting themselves 
after the fatigues of the day's chase. They seemed 
to be in liigh good humor, as if the hunt had gone 
well with them that day ; and, being in tliis mood, 
extended a true Indian welcome to the new-comers ; 
setting before them, with open-handed hospitality, 
heaps of parched corn, and their choicest bits of 
venison, wild turkey, bear's meat, and fish. Supper 
ended, the pipe of peace and good-will passed from 
mouth to mouth, as a pledge that all should go on 
well between them ; after wliich the Indians, for the 
further entertainment of their white guests, and as a 
more marked manner of showing their respect, set 
about preparing themselves for a war-dance. 

In the first place, they cleared the ground around 
the fire of chunks and brushwood, and other obstruc- 
tions that might hinder the free play of their feet and 
legs in the performance. Then the two musicians 
began to put in order and tune their instruments : 
that is to say, one of them filled a camp-kettle half 
fiill of water, over which he tightly stretched a raw- 
hide, and, tapping it twice or thrice with a stick, 
drew forth a holloAV, smothered sound therefrom, by 
way of giving to those not in the secret a liint that 
this was to be their drum ; while the other made a 
rattle by putting a few bullets or pebbles into a hard, 



76 THE FAEMER BOY. 

dry gourd of monstrous size, to the handle of which 
he fastened a horse's tail, not so much to improve its 
tone perhaps, as to give it a more finished appear- 
ance. 

These simple preparations soon completed, a tall 
warrior, grimly painted as if for battle, advanced 
a few paces into the circle > and, squatting upon his 
haunches, fixed his eyes for several moments with a 
hard, stony look upon nothing whatever, till the first 
tap of the drum and the first jerk of the rattle, when 
he suddenly leaped up, with a deafening yell that 
made the old woods ring again, and began capering 
about in the most astonisliing manner, causing such 
a commotion among the dry leaves and dead twigs as 
made it appear that a little whirlwind had all at once 
been let loose among them. Another soon followed, 
and got up a similar sensation among the dry leaves 
and dead twigs on his own private account ; while a 
third, springing into the circle, did the same ; and so 
on, until at last the whole party were hot in the 
dance. Some brandished their scalj^ing-knives, some 
flourished their tomahawks, some waved aloft the 
scalps of their enemies taken in battle ; all yelling 
the while, and all making horrible faces. And 
warmer and warmer they waxed in the dance, and 
round and round they went ; now up in the air, now 
down on the ground ; jumping and kicking, yelping 
and barking, spinning and whirling, yelling and 
liowling, like a pack of hobgoblins and imps on a 



IN THE WILDERNESS. 77 

spree. The hollow woods gave back the barbarous 
din in a thousand obstreperous echoes ; and afar off, 
from the depths of the lonely forest glens, might 
have been heard, had not the attention of the spectar- 
tors been otherwise engaged, the answering howl of 
the hungry wolves. 

After some time spent In this outlandish amuse- 
ment, without any previous notice whatever, plump 
down they sat, and, in a minute, were smoking their 
pipes with as much gravity and composure as if they 
had just come in from a gentle promenade with their 
wives and cliildren along the banks of a smooth and 
tranquil river. It was a sight, once seen, never to be 
forgotten. At first, George and liis friends had 
looked on with open-eyed amazement ; but, • before 
the dance was ended, the whole scene appeared to 
them so comical, that they had need of all their self- 
control to keep a sober countenance, so as not to 
give offence to their savage entertainers. 



VI. 

THE YOUNG SUKVEYOR. 

IT was a glorious region of stately woods, fertile 
valleys, clear running streams, and lofty moun- 
tains, where our young sm'veyor, with the exception 
of the winter months, spent the next three years of 
his Hfe. At first, not being accustomed to such 
severe privations and exposure, it had gone rather 
hard with him : but he soon became inured to them ; 
and it was, no doubt, to tliis rough experience in the 
wilderness, that he owed, in large measure, his un- 
common vigor and activity of body, and that firm 
reliance on the resoiu:ces of his own mind, which 
enabled him to endure and overcome those hardsliips, 
trials, and difficulties wliich beset liim throughout the 
greater portion of his after-life. This severe training 
was also of another advantage to liim, in making Inm 
perfectly familiar with all that region, in whose dark 
retreats and rugged wilds he learned, a few years 
later, his first hard lessons in the art of war. 

With all its privations, it was a life he loved to 
lead ; for it afforded him the means of an independent 
support : and a happy boy was he, when first he 

[78] 



THE YOUXG SURVEYOR. 79 

wrote his mother that he was earning from fifteen to 
twenty dollars for every day he worked. Besides 
this, the beauty and grandeur of Nature's works, 
everywhere visible around him, awakened in him feel- 
ings of the truest delight ; and he would sometimes 
spend the better part of a summer's day in admiring 
the tall and stately trees, whose spreading branches 
were his only shelter from the dews of heaven, and 
heat of noonday. At night, after supper, when his 
companions would be talking over the adventures of 
the day just past, or laugliin^ boisterously at some 
broad joke repeated for the hundredth time, or would 
be joining their voices in the chorus of some rude 
woodland song, our young surveyor would be sitting 
a little apart on the trunk of a fallen tree, pencil 
and paper before him, calculating with a grave coun- 
tenance, and by the ruddy light of a blazing pine- 
knot, the results of the day's labor. With no other 
companionsliip than that of the wild Indians he fell 
in with fi'om time to time, and the rude, unlettered 
hunters around him, he must needs turn for society 
to the thoughts that stirred witliin his own mind. 
Often would he withdraw himself ft'om the noisy 
mirth of his companions, and, climbing to some lofty 
mountain-top, spend hours and hours rapt in the 
contemplation of the wild and varied region, smiling 
in life and beauty far, far beneath liim. At such 
times, we can imagine his countenance lit up with a 
sacred joy, and liis soul rising in praise and thanks- 



80 THE FARMER BOY. 

giving to tlie great Father, who, in love and wisdom, 
made this glorious world for the good and happiness 
of all that dwell therein. 

Now and then, for the sake of a refresliing change, 
he would leave the wilderness behind liim, with all its 
toils and dangers, and betake liim to Greenway Court, 
the woodland home of old Lord Fairfax, with whom 
he had become a great favorite, and was ever a wel- 
come guest. Here he would spend a few weeks in 
the most agreeable manner you can well imagine ; 
for the old lord, being a man of some learning and 
extensive reading, had collected, in the course of a 
long life, a large library of the best and rarest books, 
from wliich, during these three years, George de- 
rived great pleasure and much valuable information. 
Besides this, a keener fox-hunter than this odd old 
bachelor was not to be found in all the Old Domi- 
nion ; and, for the full enjoyment of this sport, he 
always kept a pack of hounds of the purest EngHsh 
blood. At the first peep of dawn, the cheerful notes 
of the hunter's horn, and the deep-mouthed baying 
of the fox-hounds, filling the neighboring woods with 
their Mvely din, would call our young surveyor from 
his slumbers to come and join in the sports of the 
morning. Waiting for no second summons, he 
would be up and out in a trice, and mounted by the 
side of the merry old lord ; when, at a signal wound 
on the bugle, the whole party would dash away, 
pell-mell, helter-skelter, over the hills and throusrh 



THE YOUNG SURVEYOR. 81 

the woods, up the hills and down them again, across 
the brooks and along the winding river ; hunters and 
horses hard on the heels of the hounds, hounds hard 
on the heels of poor Renard, and poor Eenard cutting, 
cutting away for dear hfe. 

During the three years thus employed, George 
riiade liis home at Mount Yernon, it being nearer and 
more convenient to his field of labor ; but, as often 
as his business would permit, he would go on a visit 
to his mother at the old homestead on the Rappahan- 
nock, whither, as I shoidd have told you before now, 
his father had removed when he was but three or four 
years old. These were precious opportunities, ever 
improved by him, of extending to her that aid in the 
management of her family affairs, wliich to receive 
from him was her greatest pleasure, as well as his 
truest delio'ht to o-iye. 

About this time, he formed a habit of writing 
down in a diary or day-book such facts and observa- 
tions as seemed to him worthy of note, by wliich 
means he would be enabled to fix firmly in his mmd 
whatever might prove of use to him at a future day. 
Tliis is a most excellent habit ; and I would earnestly 
advise all young persons, desirous of increasing their 
stock of knowledge, to form it as soon as they begin 
the study of grammar and can write a good round 
hand. The following is a specimen of this diary, 
written by him at the age of sixteen, as you will see 

by the date therein given : — 

4* 



82 THE FAEMER BOY. 

"Marcli 13th, 1748. — Rode to his lordship's (Lord 
Fairfax's) quarter. About four miles higher up the She- 
nandoah, we went through most beautiful groves of sugar- 
trees, and spent the better part of the day in admiring the 
trees and richness of the land. 

" 14th. — We sent our baggage to Capt. Kite's, near 
Fredericktown ; and went ourselves down the river about 
sixteen miles (the land exceedingly rich all the way, pro- 
ducing abundance of grain, hemp, and tobacco), in order to 
lay oflf some land on Cole's Marsh and Long Marsh. 

" loth. — Worked hard till night, and then returned. 
After supper, we were lighted into a room ; and I, not 
being so good a woodsman as the rest, stripped myself very 
orderly, and went into the bed, as they called it ; w^hen, to 
my surprise, I found it to be nothing but a little straw 
matted together, without sheet or any thing else, but only 
one threadbare blanket, with double its weight of vermin. 
I was glad to get up and put on my clothes, and lie as my 
companions did. Had we not been very tired, I am sure 
we should not have slept much that night. I made a pro- 
mise to sleep so no more ; choosing rather to sleep in the 
open air, before a fire. 

"18th. — We travelled to Thomas Berwick's on the 
Potomac, where we found the river exceedingly high, by 
reason of the great rains that had fallen among the Alle- 
ghanies. They told us it would not be fordable for several 
days ; it being now six feet higher than usual, and rising. 
We agreed to stay till Monday. We this day called to see 
the famed Warm Springs. We camped out in the field this 
night. 

" 20th. — Finding the river not much abated, we in the 
evening swam our horses over to the Maryland side. 



THE YOimG SURVEYOR. 83 

" 21st. — We went over in a canoe, and travelled up the 
Maryland side all day, in a continued rain, to Col. Cresap's, 
over against the mouth of the South Branch, about forty 
miles from the place of starting in the morning, and over 
the worst road, I believe, that ever was trod by man or 
beast." 

In tills diary, he also entered such items as these, 
— the number of acres of each lot of land sm^veyed, 
the quality of the soil, the growth of plants and trees, 
the height of the hills, the extent of the valleys, 
and the length, breadth, and course of the streams. 
From the items thus collected, he would draw the 
materials for the reports it was his duty to submit, 
from time to time, for examination, to liis patron or 
employer ; and such was the clearness, brevity, and 
exactness displayed therein, and such the industry, 
skill, and fidelity with which he performed his toil- 
some and difficult task, that the generous old lord not 
only rewarded him handsomely for his services, but 
continued to cherish for him tln^ough life a truly 
fatherly affection. 

In after-years, Washington was wont to turn with 
peculiar fondness to tliis period of his life, as perhaps 
aiFording the only leisure he had ever known for sen- 
timental musings, and the indulgence of what fancy 
he may have had in those bright visions of future 
happiness, fame, or enterprise, to which all men are 
more or less given during the immature years of 
youth.* Tliis, to my mind, is to be easily enough 



84 THE FARMER BOY. 

accounted for, if ^ye but ascribe It to a certain little 
circumstance ; concerning which, as It exercised no 
small Influence on his mind at the time, I will now 
tell you all that Is known, and. It may be, more than 
ever can be known with possible certainty. 

From a letter written by him at the age of fifteen, 
and also from some sad and plaintive verses of his 
own composition found In his copy-book, we learn 
that the boy, who should grow to become the great- 
est man that ever made tliis glorious world of ours 
more glorious with lils wise precepts and virtuous 
example, was at tliis time a victim of the tender pas- 
sion called love^ of which most of you little folks as 
yet know nothing but the four letters that spell the 
word. 

The object of this early attachment was a dam- 
sel, of whom nothing certain is known, as her 
name, from the fact of its never being repeated above 
a whisper, has not come down to our day, but w^ho 
was called by him In his confidential correspondence 
the Lowland Beauty. As he had none of that self- 
assurance which lads of his age are apt to mistake for 
pluck or spirit, he never ventured to make known the 
secret of this passion to the object thereof; and it Is 
probable, that we, even at the big end of a hundred 
years, are wiser as to tliis tender passage of his life 
than was ever the young lady herself. -Not having 
the courage to declare the sentiments that warmed liIs 
breast, he wisely resolved to banish them fr6m his 



THE YOUNG SURVEYOR. 85 

mind altogether ; and this, I will venture to say, was 
one reason why he so readily accepted of old Lord 
Fairfax's offer, and was willing for so long a time to 
make his abiding-place in the wilderness. But it was 
months, and even years, before he could get the better 
of his weakness, if such it could be justly called ; for 
a wilderness, let me tell you (and I hope the hint 
will not be lost on my little friends) , is the last place 
in the world, that a man, or a boy either, should take 
to, as the readiest means of ridding himself of such 
troublesome feelings. No wonder, then, that our 
young surveyor was grave and thouglitful beyond liis 
years ; and that the lonely forest, with its ever-chan- 
ging beauties and wild seclusion, viewed through the 
bewitched eyes of love, should have had greater 
charms for liim than the noisy, bustling haunts of 
men. That you may have a more distinct idea of the 
appearance of Washington at the time of which we 
are speaking, your Uncle Juvinell will conjure up, 
from the linjo^erino; lights and shadows of his dull old 
fancy, a little picture, to be gilded anew by your 
bright young fancies, and hung up in that loftiest 
chamber of your memory w^hich you are wont to 
adorn with your portraits of the good and great men 
and women who have blessed the earth, and of whom 
we love so much to read and hear. 

It is a summer morning, and the eastern moun- 
tains flino; their sliadows lonp; and hujje across the 
lonesome valleys. Our little party of surveyors, 



86 THE FAllMER BOY. 

ha\^ng spent the night on the summits of one of the 
less lofty peaks of the Blue Kklge, are slowly de- 
scending Its shrubby sides to the more densely wooded 
parts of the wilderness below, of whose waste fer- 
tility many a broad tract have they yet to explore, 
and many a mile of boundary-line have chain and 
compass yet to measure and determine. Still linger- 
ing on the summit far above, as loath to quit the 
contemplation of the splendid prospect seen from 
thence, stands a tall youth of eighteen, with his right 
arm thrown across his horse's neck, and Ills left hand 
grasping his compass-stafF. He is clad m a buckskin 
huntlmr- shirt, with leo'O'lns and moccasons of the same 
material, — the simple garb of a backwoodsman, and 
one that well becomes him now, as in perfect keeping 
with the wildness of the surrounding scenery ; while 
in Ills broad leathern belt are stuck his long hunting- 
knife and Indian tomahawk. In stature he is much 
above most youths of the same age : he is of a hand- 
some and robust form, with high and strong but 
smooth features, light-brown hair, large blue eyes, — 
not brilliant, but beaming with a clear and steady 
llii'ht, as if a soul looked tlu'ouo'h them that knew no 

CD ' O 

taint of vice or meanness, — and a countenance all 
glorious with a truth and courage, modest gentleness, 
and manly self-reliance ; and as he thus hngers on that 
lonely mountain-height, glorified as it were with the 
fresh pure light of the newly risen sun, with head 
uncovered and looks reverent, he seems in holy com- 



THE YOUNG SURVEYOR. 87 

munion with his Maker, to whom, in the tender, 
guileless years of childliood, a pious mother taught 
him to kneel, morning and evening, in prayer, thanks- 
giving, and adoration. 

Anon, his morning devotions ended, he turns to 
take, ere following his companions down the moun- 
tain, another view of the varied panorama spread out 
far beneath him, the chief feature of which is a val- 
ley, surpassing in beauty and fertility any that that 
summer's sun will shine on ere reaching his golden 
gateway in the west. Through this valley, glimmer- 
ing, half sdfen, half hid among the waving woods, 
runs a river, with many a graceful bend, so beautiful, 
that, in the far-away years of the past, some long- 
forgotten tribe of Indians called it Shenandoah, or 
Shining Daughter of the Stars ; a name that still lin- 
gers like a sweet echo among the mountains. And 
as the eyes of the young surveyor slowly range the 
wide prospect from point to point, and take in miles 
and miles of beauty at a single stretch of view, there 
is a look in them as if he would recall some pleasing 
dream of the niffht, wliich he would now fain brino* 
forth, though but a dream, to refine and elevate the 
thoughts wherewith his mind must needs be occuj)ied 
throughout the day. He is familiar with every fea- 
ture of the landscape before him : he knows each 
shady dell and sunny hill, and every grassy slope and 
winding stream ; for there he has made his home this 
many a day. He has seen it all a thousand times, and 



88 THE FARMER BOY. 

each time with renewed delight. But now it has 
a glory not all its own, nor borrowed from the 
morning sun, but from the first warm light of 
youthful love that burns in liis heart for his Lowland 
Beauty. 



VII. 

FIRST MILITARY APPOINTMENT. 

ABOUT this time, the Indians inhabiting that vast 
reo'ion extendins^ from the Ohio River to the 
great lakes of the north, secretly encouraged and 
aided by the French, began to show signs of hostility, 
and threatened the western borders of Virginia, Penn- 
sylvania, and New York, with all the dismal horrors 
of their bloody and wasting warfare. The alarm 
spread rapidly from the frontier even to the Atlantic 
coast, till the whole country was awakened to the 
sense of the impending danger. 

To put the Province of Virginia in a better posture 
of defence, the governor thereof, Robert Dinwiddie, 
besides other measures, divided it into four grand 
military districts. Over each of these he placed what 
is called an adjutant-general, whose duty it was to 
organize and train the militia, instruct the officers in 
matters touching the art and science of war, to re- 
view the different companies when on parade, and to 
inspect their arms and accoutrements, and see that 
they were kept ready for use at a moment's warning. 

[89] 



90 THE FARMER BOY. 

The energy, fidelity, and soundness of judgment, 
that young Washington had lately shown while act- 
ing as surveyor, had won for him a name in the 
colony ; and, becoming known to Governor Dinwid- 
dle, he was appointed by that gentleman adjutant- 
general of the Northern district ; receiving along with 
liis commission the rank of major, which entitled him 
to the salary of seven hundred and fifty dollars a 
year. You have already seen what great delight he 
took in martial exercises when a school-boy ; and, 
now that he was to become a soldier in the true sense 
of the term, you will not be surprised to learn that 
this appointment was altogether agreeable to his pre- 
sent taste and inclinations. To show his deep sense 
of the honor done him, and the trust and confidence 
reposed in him, he determined to perform liis work 
well and faithfully as far as in him lay. 

The better to qualify himself for the duties of his 
office, he placed liimself under the instruction of 
his brother Lawrence, and other officers Hvins: in that 
part of the province, who had served under Admiral 
Vernon during the late Spanish war. These gentle- 
men, besides giving him the benefit of their experience 
and observation, placed in his hands the best w^orks 
on military science then in use ; from which he learned 
the various modes of training militia, the different 
manoeuvres of an army" on the field of battle, and 
their management wliile on the hue of march, together 
with the most approved plans of building forts, tlu'ow- 



FIRST MILITARY APPOINTMENT. 91 

ing up intrencliments and redoubts, and the construc- 
tion of other works of defence, whether of wood or 
earth or stone. At the same time, he also made him- 
self acquainted with the handling and design of many 
weapons and engines of war ; and under the instruc- 
tion of Capt. Van Braam, a Dutch fencing-master, 
he became very skilful In the use of the sword. Thus 
Mount Vernon, from being the quiet mansion of a 
country gentleman, was now, in a manner, converted 
Into a military school ; and the youth, who but a few 
years before, as he strolled among Its verdant retreats, 
had, in honor of his Lowland Beauty, made his first 
and only attempt of putting lils thoughts and feelings 
in verse, was, at the early age of nineteen, called upon 
to dlscharo'e those stern duties which men of au'e and 
experience alone are generally thought able to per- 
form. The district allotted to Major Washington 
(for so we must now call him) consisted of several 
large counties, each of which the duties of lils office 
obliged lilm to visit from time to time ; and such was 
the energy and spirit he carried into liis work, and 
such ability did he display, and such was the manliness 
and dignified courtesy with wlilch he deported him- 
self on all occasions, that he soon completely won the 
confidence and aiFectlons of both officers and men, 
who were inspired by his example to still greater zeal 
and patriotism in the service of their country. 

But these labors, so agreeable to one of his age 
and ardent spirit, were now Interrupted for several 



92 THE FARMER BOY. 

months. His brother Lawrence, who had always 
been of a delicate constitution, was now thought to 
be in the last stages of consumption, and was advised 
by his physicians to betake himself to the West In- 
dies, where he might yet, perhaps, find some relief in 
the warmer suns and milder airs of those beautiful 
islands. As he would have need of cheerful company 
and gentle and careful nursing, he took with him his 
favorite brother George ; and, embarking from Alex- 
andria, was soon out upon the shining billows of the 
deep-blue sea, in quest of that health he was never 
again to find. Their place of destination was the 
charming little Island of Barbadoes, where, after a 
somewhat stormy voyage, they arrived in safety. 

While here, Major Wasliington had an attack of 
small-pox, which handled him rather severely ; and 
for some time he was thouoht to be in a dano^erous 
condition. But in a few weeks, by dint of careful 
nursing, joined to the natural vigor of his constitu- 
tion, he got the better of this frightful malady ; and, 
when he was completely restored, not a disfiguring 
trace of it remained. 

During his sojourn here, he still continued his habit 
of writing down in a journal whatever of importance 
or interest came under his observation ; In whicli, 
among other items, we find such as the following, — 
the speed of the ship in which they sailed ; the direc- 
tion of the winds ; some account of a storm that 
overtook them on their voyage; the cities, sliips. 



FIR&T MILITARY APPOINTJVIENT. 93 

forts, and military strength of the Island of Barba- 
does ; its products ; manners and customs of the 
people, and the laws and government under which 
they lived. By this means, contributing as it did to 
habits of close and accurate observation, he impressed 
the more strongly upon his memory such facts as 
might prove of use to him at a future day. 

Our two Virginians, during the three or four 
months of their stay on the island, were treated with 
much courtesy and hospitality by the inhabitants. 
But neither the genial cHmate of the region, nor the 
kindly hospltahty of the people, was enough to re- 
store that health and strength to the invalid for 
which he had come so far and hoped so long. 

Feeling that his end was drawing nigh, Lawrence 
Washington resolved to hasten home, that he might 
have the melancholy satisfaction of spending his last 
moments in the midst of his family and friends. 
He had scarcely returned to Mount Yernon, and bid 
a fond farewell to the loved ones there, when the 
angel of death summoned him to take another and a 
longer voyage, in quest of immortality, to be found 
in the islands of the blest, that smile in never-fading 
beauty on the bosom of the eternal sea. 

Thus, at the early age of thirty-four, died Law- 
rence Washington, one of the most amiable and 
accomplished gentlemen of liis day. He left behind 
him an affectionate wife, a sweet Kttle daughter, a 
devoted brother, and many a loving friend, to mourn 



94 THE FAEMEE BOY. ' 

his loss. In his will, he bequeathed his fine estate of 
Mount Vernon and all else that he possessed to his 
brother George ; on condition, however, that his wife 
should have the use of it during her lifetime, and 
that his daughter should die without children to in- 
herit it. The daughter did not reach the years of 
maidenhood ; and, the mother surviving but a few 
years, George was left in the undivided possession of 
a large and handsome property ; and, in a worldly 
point of view, liis fortune was really already made. 
But, for all that, he long and deeply mourned the 
death of this much loved and valued brother, who 
had been to him father and friend ever since that 
first great sorrow of his cliildhood, when he became 
a widow's son and a widow's blessing. 

And thus, my little children, I have told you the 
story of tills great and good man's life from his years 
of infancy up to those of early manhood. I have 
dwelt at greater length upon this period of his life 
than perhaps any other historian, and have told you 
some things that you might look for elsewdiere in 
vain. , In my treatment of this part of the subject, 
it has been my chief aim and earnest desire to impress 
upon your opening minds this one great truth, — that, 
if you would be good and wise in your manhood, 
you must begin, now in early youth, to put forth all 
your powers, and use all the means within your reach, 
to store your mind with useful knowledge, and direct 
your thoughts and actions in the ways of truth and 



riEST MILITAKY APPOINTMENT. 95 

virtue, industry and sobriety. The boy Washington 
did all this ; and, ere we have done, you shall see the 
glorious results of such a good beginning. Be like 
liim in your youth, — patient and diligent, loving 
and dutiful, truthful and prayerful ; that you may be 
like liim in the fulness of years, — esteemed and 
beloved, happy and good, useful and wise. 




VIII. 

IMPORTANT EXPLANATIONS. 

TIEN Uncle Juvlnell had finished this part of 
liis story, he paused, and with a beam- 
ing face looked round upon his little cu-cle of lis- 
teners. Two or three of the youngest had long 
since Mien asleep ; and Master Ned, having heard 
the story of the little hatchet, had stolen quietly 
away to the cabin, just to see how " black daddy " 
was getting along with his sled. Having waited till 
it was finished, he had, for his own private amuse- 
ment, taken it to a nice hillside, and was now coast- 
ing on it all alone by the light of a good-humored, 
dish-faced moon. The other children had listened 
with great interest and attention to the story, and 
were still sitting with their eyes bent earnestly on the 
fire, whose great bright eye had by this time grown 
a little red, and was winking in a slow and sleepy 
way, as if it were saying, " Well done. Uncle Juvi- 
nell, — very well done indeed. I have been listening 
very attentively, and quite approve of all you ha^ e 
said, especially all that about the wooden-legged 
schoolmaster, the little hatchet, the sorrel horse, the 

[96] 



BIPORTANT EXPLAJS^ATIONS. 97 

Indian war-dance, and the Lowland Beauty, not to 
mention those wise maxims and wholesome moral pre- 
cepts you brought in so aptly. All of it is very fine 
and very good, and just to my liking. But I am 
thinking it is high bed-time for these little folks." 

Uncle Juvinell was much gratified to see how 
deeply interested the children were in what he had 
been telling them ; and in a Httle while he called upon 
them to let him know how they all liked it. Laura 
said that it was very nice ; Ella, that it was charm- 
ing ; Daniel, that it was quite as interesting as 
Plutarch's Lives ; Willie, that it was even more so 
than "Kobinson Crusoe;" and Bryce, that it was 
very good, but he would have liked it better had 
Uncle Juvinell told them more about the Indians. 
Just then. Master Charhe awoke from a comfortable 
nap of an hour or two, having dropped asleep shortly 
after the sorrel horse dropped dead ; and, to make 
believe that he had been as wide awake as a weasel 
from the very start, began asking such a string of 
questions as seemed likely to have no end. After a 
droll jumbling of Washington with Jack the Giant- 
killer, old Lord Fairfax w^ith Bluebeard, poor old 
Hobby, the wooden-legged schoolmaster, with the 
Roving Bed Robber, he at last so far got the better 
of his sleepy senses as to know what he would be 
driving at; when he said, "Uncle Juvinell, did his 
father let him keep his little hatchet after he had cut 

the cherry-tree ? " 

5 



98 THE FARMER BOY. 

"History, my little nephew," replied liis uncle 
•with a sober countenance, "does not inform us 
whether he did or not ; but you may be quite sure 
that he did, well knowing that a little boy who would 
choose rather to take a whipping than tell a lie, or 
suffer another to be punished for an offence he had 
himself committed, would never be guilty the second 
time of doing that wherein he had once been for- 
bidden." 

" What became of black Jerry after he turned a 
somerset in the snow, and went rolling over and 
over down the liill?" Charlie went on. 

"Jerry, I am happy to say," replied his uncle, 
"was so won over by the kindness and noble sejf- 
devotion of his brave little master, that he made up 
his mind to mend his ways from that very moment ; 
and in a short time, from having been the worst, 
became the best behaved neo-rolino; to be found on 
either side of the Rappahannock, for more than a 
hundred miles up and down." 

"What is a negroling?" inquired Master Charlie, 
as if bent on sifting this matter to the very bottom. 

" A negroling," replied Uncle Juvinell with a 
smile, " is to a full-grown negro what a gosling is to 
a full-grown goose. Now, can you tell me what 
it is?" 

" A gosling negro, I suppose," w^as Charlie's an- 
SAA^er ; and then he asked, " Did old Hobby go on 
teaching school after little George left liim?" 



IMrORTANT EXPLANATIONS. 99 

" Of course he did," answered his uncle ; " but, you 
may depend upon it, he never took another scholar 
as far as the single rule of three." Then, winkino* 
slyly at two or three of the older children, he con- 
tinued : " This worthy schoolmaster lived to the good 
old age of ninety-nine ; when, feeling that his earthly 
pilgrimage was drawing to a close, he for the last 
time hung up his big cocked hat on the accustomed 
peg, and for the last time unscrewed his wooden 
leg, and set it in its accustomed corner ; then, 
hke a good Christian, laid him down to die in 
peace, giving thanks to Heaven with liis last breath 
that it had fallen to his lot to teach the ffreat Georsfe 
Washington his A B C's and the multiplication- 
table." 

This made Master Charlie look very grave and 
thoughtful, so that he asked no more questions for 
the rest of the night. 

Then Daniel, the young historian, who, having his 
mind occupied with more weighty matters, had been 
listening with some impatience wliile the above confab 
was going on, begged that his uncle would tell him 
what was meant by a midshipman's warrant. 

"In the first place, Dannie," said Uncle Juvinell, 
"for the benefit of the rest of the children, who are 
not so well informed upon such matters as yourself, 
we must see what a midshipman is. The lowest 
officer in the navy, but still several degrees removed 
from a common sailor, is a midshipman, who enters 



100 THE FAEIVIER BOY. 

a man-of-war as a kind of pupil to study the art of 
navigation, and to acquaint himself with other mat- 
ters connected with the seafaring life. A man-of- 
war, you must know, is the largest vessel, or ship 
of war, belonging to a nation ; while all the ships 
fitted out at the public expense, together with tlie 
officers and seamen concerned in their keeping and 
management, make up what is called a navy. By 
navigation, we are to understand the art by which 
sailors are taught to conduct ships from one point to 
another. Now, a warrant is a writing that gives 
some one the right to do a thing or to enjoy it. 
Thus you see a midshipman's warrant would have 
given young Washington the right to go on board a 
man-of-war, where, as a kind of pupil, he would 
have learned the ai't of navigation, the management 
of ships, and many other things necessary to make a 
good sailor. The knowledge thus acquired, and the 
training to which he must needs have been subjected, 
would have fitted him in time to become an officer of 
the navy, such as a lieutenant or a captain, and, it 
may be, even an admiral." 

"And w^hat is an admiral? " Inquired Willie. 

"An admiral," replied Uncle Juvinell, "is the 
highest officer of the navy : he is to the armies of 
the sea what a general is to the armies of the land, 
and commands a squadron, or fleet, wliich, you must 
know, is a large number of armed ships, moving 
and acting in concert together." 



IMPORTANT EXPLANATIONS. 101 

"Does he fight with a sword?" Inquired Bryce, 
who, it must be borne in mind, was the mihtary young 
p'entleman, who carried a wooden sword of his own. 

" It is unusual," rephed his uncle, " for either an 
admiral or a general to fight in person ; it being their 
duty to put their armies in order of battle, and after- 
wards, during the fight, to control the movements of 
the different regiments or divisions by orders carried 
by aides to the officers under their command." 

" You told us, uncle," said Willie, " that Wasliing- 
ton received, along with the commission of adjutant- 
general, the rank of major. Now, what are we to 
understand by this ? " 

" A commission," replied his uncle, " is a writing, 
giving some one the right or authority to perform the 
duties of some office, and receive the pay and honors 
arising from the same. The duties of an adjutant- 
general you have already seen ; and the commission 
received by young Washington to perform those 
duties made him equal in rank, not to a general, but 
to a major." 

"I know you told us, uncle," said Ella, "what is 
meant by surveying ; but I don't tliink that I clearly 
understand it yet." 

" I will refer you to your brother Dannie," said 
Uncle Juvinell ; " for he is looking very wise, as if 
somebody knew a thing or two, and could, were he 
but called upon, greatly enlighten somebody else. 
Out with it, Dannie, and let us have it." 



102 THE FARMER BOY. 

"Surveying teaches the measurement of land," 
Dannie made haste to answer ; " and a surveyor is 
one who measures land with the help of a long chain 
and compass and other instruments. Now, George 
Washington, for example" — 

" That will do, Daniel," said his uncle, interrupt- 
ing him : " you have made it as clear as daylight 
already ; and I dare say your sister understands you 
perfectly, w^ithout the help of any example." 

" Oh, I like to have forgotten one thing ! " cried 
WiUie. "Tell us what is meant by line of march, 
manoeuvres on the battle-field, tlu'owing up intrencli- 
ments, and the like." 

To these points, Uncle Juvinell made answer : "An 
army, my nephew, is said to be on the line of march 
when it is moving from one place to another. A 
manoeuvre is an evolution or a movement of an army, 
designed to mislead or deceive an enemy, or in some 
way to gain the advantage of him. An intrench- 
merit is a breastwork or wall, with a trench or ditch 
running along the outside. The breastwork, being 
formed of the earth thrown up from the trench, serves 
as a protection against the shots of an enemy. The 
trench being quite as deep as tHe breastwork is high, 
renders it very difficult and dangerous for the works 
to be taken by storm ; for the enemy must first 
descend into the ditch before he can reach and scale 
the wall, — an attempt always attended with the great- 
est peril to those who make it ; for they who defend 



IMPORTANT EXPLANATIONS. 103 

the works, fighting on top of the walls, have greatly 
the advantage of those beneath. Sometimes intrench- 
ments run in straight or crooked hnes, and sometimes 
enclose an irregular square or circle ; and any piece 
of ground, or body of men, thus enclosed or fortified, 
is said to be intrenched." 

" What a pity it is we can never know the name of 
the Lowland Beauty ! " remarked Miss Laura regret- 
fully ; for she was getting to be quite old enough to 
be somewhat interested in matters of this kind. 

" The name the young surveyor gave her," said 
Uncle Juvinell, " lends an interest to this part of his 
life, which a knowledge of her true name might never 
have awakened. Besides tliis, my dear niece, if you 
but be attentive to what I shall relate hereafter, you 
will learn many things touching the life and character 
of his mother Mary and his wife Martha far more 
worthy of your remembrance." 

The clock struck ten ; the fire burned low, and a 
heavy lid of ashes hid its great red eye. And sow 
Uncle Juvinell bethought him that it must indeed be 
high bed-time for the little folks ; and in conclusion 
he said, " Now, my dear children, I want you to bear 
well in mind what I have told you to-night, that you 
may be the better prepared for what I shall tell you 
to-morrow evening. And hereafter I woidd have 
you write down on your slates, while I go on with 
my story, whatever you may find difficult and shall 
wish to have more fully explained at the end of each 



104 THE FARMER BOY. 

evenino:'s lesson. And now let us sins: our evenini; 
hymn, and part for tlie night." 

With that they joined their voices, as was then' 
wont, in a sweet hymn of praise and thanks to the 
great Father of us all, — tlie little folks carrymg 
the treble, while Uncle Juvinell managed the bass. 
This duly done, they came one by one, and kissed 
their dear old uncle a lo^ing good-night ; then crept 
to theu' happy l^eds to dream till morning of wooden- 
legged schoolmasters, little hatchets, wild rides on 
fiery untamed horses that were always sorrel, of 
life in the lonely wilderness, rambles without end 
up and down the mountains, and of skin-clad Indians 
leaping and wliirling in the war-dance. 



IX, 



IXDIAN" TROUBLES. 



AyD now. -'did I'ljc]*"' Juvinell, I .^ee you are all 
agog, .-lutf '.n>(] ]n-hc-':] in hand, ready to jot 
d'•^^■Ii auv cjije-ti' mj tij.m j;,;r.- ':]j;i uce tO pop into your 
bu-y young brains, to l^e asked and answered, for 
our further enliirhtennient, at tlj' 'f our even- 

ing le.s.son. So. ^vitliout more ado. we will begin. 

Jjut. before trudfrinj^ on further in our dL-li^htful 
journey, we must pau.-^e a rnument. and turning 
square round, with our faee.s towards tjie lung-ago 
years of the pa.-t, take a bird's-eye view of the early 
history of our country, that we may know exactly 
where we are when we eonie to find our.-eh'es in 
the outskirts of that long and bb^ody strug2'le be- 
tween the two great nations of England and France, 
commonly called the Seven Years' AVar. and some- 
times the Old French AVar. Xow, although this 
would not be as entertaining to your li\ely fancies 
as an Arabian tale or an Indian legend, yet you 
will by and by see very plainly that we coidd not 
have skipped it, without losing the sense of a great 
deal that follows ; for it was dining this war that 

6* (105] 



106 THE FAEMER BOY. 

our Washington first experienced the trials and hard- 
ships of a soldier's life, and displayed that courage, 
prudence, and ability, which in the end proved the 
salvation and glory of his native country. 

In the first place, you must know, my dear chil- 
dren, that this beautiful land of ours, where now dwell 
the freest and happiest people the blessed sun ever 
shone upon, was, only a few hundred years ago, all 
a vast unbroken wilderness ; a place where no one 
but savao^e Indians found a home, whose chief 
amusement was to fight and kill and scalp each 
other ; and whose chief occupation was to hunt wild 
beasts and birds, upon whose flesh they fed, and 
with whose hairy skins and horns and claws and 
feathers they clothed and decked themselves. Where 
in the leafy summer-time may now be heard the 
merry plough-boy whistling " Yankee Doodle " over 
the waving corn, the wild Indian once wrestled with the 
surly bear, or met his ancient enemy in deadly fight. 
Nibbling sheep and grazing cattle now range the 
grassy hills and valleys where he was wont to give 
chase to the timid deer, or lie in wait for the mon- 
strous buffalo. Huge steamers ply up and down our 
mighty rivers where he once paddled his little canoe. 
Splendid cities have risen, as if at the rubbing of 
Aladdin's enchanted lamp, where in the depths 
of the forest he once kindled the great council-fire, 
and met the neiohborino- tribes in the Bio- Talk. 
The very schoolhouse, where you little folks are 



INDIAN TROUBLES. 107 

now tripping so lightly along the flowery path of 
knowledge, may perhaps stand on the selfsame 
shady slope, where, of a long summer evening, he 
would sit at the door of his bark-built wigwam, 
smoking his long pipe, and watching his naked red 
children with a more fatherly smile than you can 
well imagine in one so fierce, as with many a hoop 
and yelp they played at " hide-and-seek " among the 
gray old trees and pawpaw thickets. On yonder 
hill-top, where we at this moment can see the win- 
dows of the house of God shining and glancing in 
the moonlight, he may have stood, with his face to 
the rising or setting sun, in mute worship before the 
Great Spirit. 

But the stronger and wiser white man came ; and, 
at his terrible approach, the red man, with all his wild 
remembrances, passed away, like an echo in the 
woods, or the shadow of an April cloud over the hills 
and valleys ; and the place that once knew him shall 
know him no more for ever. 

And yet it might have been far otherwise with him 
and with us, had not a certain Christopher Columbus 
chanced to light upon this Western World of ours, as 
he came hap-hazard across the wide Atlantic, where 
ship had never sailed before, in quest of a shorter 
passage to Asia. 

By this great discovery, it was proved to the entire 
satisfaction of all who are in the least interested in 
the matter, that this earth upon which we live, 



108 THE FARMER BOY. 

insteid of being long and flat, with sides and ends 
and corners like a great rough slab, was round, and 
hollow inside, like an India-rubber ball, and went 
rolling through empty space, round and round the 
sun, year after year, continually. 

Of this bold and skilful sailor, the most renowned 
that ever lived, I should like to tell you many tilings ; 
but, as we set out to give our chief attention to the 
story of Washington, we must deny ourselves this 
pleasure until the holidays of some merry Christmas 
yet to come, when your Uncle Juvinell, if he still 
keeps his memory fresh and green, will relate to you 
many wonderful things in the hfe of this great 
voyager, Columbus. 

Up to this time, all the nations of Christendom 
had for ages upon ages been sunk in a lazy doze of 
ignorance and superstition. But, when tidings of the 
great discovery reached their drowsy ears, they were 
roused in a marvellous manner ; and many of the 
richest and most powerful forthwith determined to 
secure, each to itself, a portion of the new-found 
region, by planting colonies ; or, in other words, by 
making settlements therein. 

For this purpose, they sent out fleets of ships 
across the Atlantic to these distant shores, laden 
with multitudes of men, who brought with them all 
manner of tools and implements wherewith to clear 
away the forests, till the soil, and build forts and 
cities, and arms to defend themselves against the 



INDIAN TROUBLES. 109 

attacks of the warlike savages. Thus, for example, 
Spain colonized Mexico ; France, Canada ; and Eng- 
land, that strip of the North- American continent, 
lying between the Alleghany Mountains and the At- 
lantic Ocean, now known as the eastern coast of the 
United States. « 

At first, the new-comers were received and treated 
with much kindness and hospitality by the natives : 
but it was not long before they discovered that they 
were likely to be robbed of their homes and hunting- 
grounds ; when rage and jealousy took possession of 
their hearts, and from that time forward they never 
let slip an opportunity of doing all the mischief in 
their power to the hated intruders. Then began that 
long train of bloody wars between the two races, 
which have never ceased except with defeat or ruin 
of the weaker red man, and bringing him nearer 
and nearer to the day when he must either forsake 
his savage life, or cease to have an existence alto- 
gether. 

Now, this may appear very unjust and wrong to 
my little friends ; and, to some extent, it really 
was: but, in those days, might made right; or, in 
other words, the strong ruled the weak. And yet 
we are bound to believe that all this, in the long-run, 
has worked, and is still working, to the greatest good 
of the greatest number : for, had it been othen\'ise, 
all this beautiful land, now the home of a Christian 
and happy people, would have remained the dismal 



110 THE FAEMER BOY. 

wilderness we have described it ; answering no good 
end, as far as concerns the spread of truth and 
knowledo'e, and the cukivation of those useful arts 
which make a nation prosperous in peace, and strong 
in war. 

Notwithsttftiding their troubles with the Indians, 
the hardships and privations to which the first settlers 
of a wild country are always exposed, and the shame- 
ful neglect with which they were treated by the 
mother-countries, the French and English colonies 
went on growing and thriving in a way that was 
wonderful to behold. At the end of a hundred and 
fifty years, or thereabouts, they had so grown in 
strength and increased in numbers, and had so 
widened their boundaries, that at last the continent, 
vast as it is, seemed too narrow to hold them both ; 
and they began throwing up their elbows for more 
room, in a manner that would have been thought 
quite uncivil in a private individual at a dinner 
table or in a stage-coach. 

Whereupon there arose a hot dispute between the 
kings of France and England as to whom belonged 
all that immense reo-ion stretchins^ from the Allci^rha- 
nies to the Mississippi, in the one direction ; and, in 
the other, from the Ohio to the Great Lakes of the 
North. 

The French claimed it by the right of discovery : 
by which they meant, that a certain Father Mar- 
quette had, nearly a hundi^ed years before, discovered 



india:n^ troubles. m 

the Mississippi during his wanderings as a mission- 
ary among the Indians of the Far West. They pre- 
tended, that, as this pious man had paddled a little 
canoe up and down this splendid river a few hundred 
miles, his royal master, the King of France, was 
thereby entitled to all the lands watered by It, and 
the ten thousand streams that empty into it. 

The English, on the other hand, claimed it by the 
light of purchase ; having, as they said, bought It at 
a fair price of the Six Nations, a powerful league or 
union of several Indian tribes inhabiting the region 
round about the great lakes Erie and Ontario. 
What right the Six Nations had to It, is impossible 
to say. They claimed It, however, by the doubtful 
right of conquest; there being a tradition among 
them, that their ancestors, many generations before, 
had overrun the country, and subdued Its Inhabit- 
ants. 

Now, the poor Indians who occupied the land in 
question were very Indignant indeed when they 
heard that they and theirs had been sold to the white 
strangers by their red enemies, the Six Nations, 
whom they regarded as a flock of meddlesome crows, 
that were always dipping their ravenous bills Into 
matters that 'did not In the least concern them ; and 
their simple heads were sorely perplexed and puzzled, 
that two great kings, dwelling In far-distant coun- 
tries, thousands of miles away beyond the mighty 
ocean, should, in the midst of uncounted riches, fall 



112 THE FARMER BOY. 

to wrano-llnof with each other over a bit of wilderness 
land that neither of them had ever set eyes or foot 
on, and to which they had no more right than the 
Grand Caliph of Bagdad, or that terrible Tartar, 
Ivublah Khan. 

" Of all this land," said they, " there is not the 
black of a man's thumb-nail- that the Six Nations can 
call their own. It is om^s. More than a thousand 
moons before the pale-face came over the Big Water 
in his white-winged canoes, the Great Spirit gave it 
to our forefathers ; and they handed it down, to be 
our inheritance as long as the old hills tell of their 
green graves. In its streams have we fished, in its 
woods have we hunted, in its sunny places have we 
built our wigwams, and in its dark and secret places 
have we fought and scalped and burnt our sworn 
enemies, without let or hinderance, time out of mind. 
Xow, if the English claim all on this side of the Ohio, 
and the French claim all on this side of the Big 
Lakes, then what they claim is one and the same coun- 
try, — the country whereon we dwell. Surely our 
white brothers must be dreaming. It is our hearts' 
desire, that our brothers, the English, keep on their 
side of the Ohio, and till the ground, and grow rich 
in corn ; also that our brothers, the French, keep 
on their side of the lakes, and hunt in the woods, 
and grow rich in skins and furs. But you must both 
quit pressing upon us, lest our ribs be squeezed in 
and our breath be squeezed out, and we cease to 



INDIAJ^ TROUBLES. 113 

have a place among men. We hold you both at 
arm's-length ; and whoever pays good heed to the 
words we have spoken, by him will we stand, and 
with him make common cause against the other." 

But to these just complaints of the poor Indian 
the French and English gave no more heed than if 
they who uttered them "were so many whip-poor- 
wills crying in the woods. So they fell to wrang- 
ling in a more unreasonable manner than ever. 
Finally, to mend the matter (that is to say, make 
things worse), the French, coming up the Mississippi 
from the South, and down from the Great Lakes of 
the North, began erecting a chain of forts upon the 
disputed territory, to overawe the inhabitants thereof, 
and force the English to keep witliin the AUeghanies 
and the Atlantic. As a matter of course, the Eng- 
lish regarded this as an insult to their dignity, and 
resolved to chastise the French for their impudence. 
And this it was that brought about that long and 
bloody struggle, the Old French War. 

Thus, my dear children, do great and wise nations, 
professing to follow the humane teachings of the 
man-loving. God-fearing Jesus, often show no more 
truth and justice and honesty in their dea]jngs 
with one another than if they were as ignorant 
of the Ten Commandments as the most benisfhted 
heathens, to whom even the name of Moses was 
never spoken. Yet, from your looks, I see that you 
are wondering witliin yourselves what all this rig- 



114 THE FARRIER BOY. 

iiiarole about England, France, the Six Nations, and 
disputed territories, can have to do with George 
AVashington. Had you -held a tight rein on your 
impatience a little while longer, you would have 
found out all about it, without the inconvenience of 
wondering; and hereafter, my little folks, rest as- 
sured that your Uncle Juvinell never ventures upon 
any thing without having all his eyes and wits about 
him, and that what he may tell you shall always 
prove instructive, although it may now and then — 
with no fault of his, however — seem to you some- 
what dry and tedious. 



X. 



"big talk" with "white thunder." 



BUT we are a little fast. In order to bring our- 
selves square again with our story, we must 
take one step backward, and begin afresh. 

When tidings of these trespasses of the French 
reached the ears of Robert Dinwiddie, then Gov- 
ernor of Vhginia, all his Scotch blood boiled within 
him, and he began forthwith casting in his mind what 
might be done to check or chastise such audacious pro- 
ceedings. 

Cooling down a little, however, he thought it 
would be better, before throwing his stones, to try 
what virtue might be found in grass. By which you 
are to understand, that he determined to write a letter 
to the French general, then stationed in a little fort 
near Lake Erie, inquiring by what authority these 
encroachments were made on the dominions of his 
royal master, the Eang of England ; and demanding 
that they, the French, should abandon then* forts, 
and withdraw their troops from the disputed territory, 
without delay, or else abide the consequences. He 
was well aware, that, to insure any tiling like success 

[115] 



116 THE FARMER BOY. 

in a mission so difficult and perilous, the person In- 
trusted with it must needs be robust of body, stout of 
heart, clear of head ; one inured to the hardships 
of a backwoods Hfe, well acquainted with the habits 
and customs of the Indians, and withal a man of 
intelligence, polite address, and the strictest integrity 
of character. But one such man was to be found 
among ten thousand ; and this was George Wash- 
ington, who answered to the description in every 
particular, and was therefore chosen to perform tliis 
perilous undertaking, although he had not yet coin- 
pleted liis twenty-second year. 

Accordingly, having received from Governor DInr 
widdie written instructions how to act when come 
into the enemy's country. Major Washington set 
out the next morning from Williamsburg, then the 
capital 9f Yirginia, and made his way at once to 
Winchester, at that time a frontier settlement of the 
pro\ance, lying on the very edge of the wilderness. 
Here he spent several days in procuring supplies for 
tlie expedition, and raising a small party of hunters 
and pioneers to guard and bear him company. After 
some delay, he succeeded In procuring the services of 
seven men. Four of these were hardy backwoods- 
men of experience, whose business it was to take care 
of the baggage and keep the party supplied with 
game. Mr. Davidson was to go along as Indian 
interpreter, and Mr. Gist as guide. A bolder and 
more enterprising pioneer than tliis Gist, by the by, 



"big T.ii.K" WITH "avhite thunder." 117 

was not to be found in all the Western wilds ; and 
he is supposed by some historians to have been the 
first white man that ever brought down an elk or a 
buffalo in that paradise of hunters, green Kentucky. 
In addition to these, Washington took with him as 
French interpreter his old Dutch fencing-master, 
Capt. Van Braam. The worthy captain, however, 
seems to have been a far more expert master of 
sword-play than of the languages ; for the jargon 
he. was pleased to call an interpretation was often 
such a medley of half-learned English, half-remem- 
bered French, and half-forgotten Dutch, that they 
who listened would be nearly as much perplexed to 
see what he would be driving at, as if he were sput- 
tering Cherokee into their ears. 

All things being at last in readiness, the gallant 
little party, headed by our young Virginian, turned 
their faces towards the great Xorth-west ; and, plun- 
ging into the wilderness, were soon beyond all traces 
of civilized man. The autumn was far advanced. 
The travellino^ was rendered toilsome, and even dan- 
gerous, by the heavy rains of this season, and early 
snows that had already fallen on the mountains, 
which had changed the little rills into rushing tor- 
rents, and the low bottom-lands into deep and miry 
swamps. Much delayed by these and the like hin- 
derances, Wasliington, upon reaching the banks of 
the Mononofahela, deemed it best to send two of the 
backwoodsmen with the baggage in canoes down 



118 THE FAEMER BOY. 

tills rn er to its mouth, where, uniting its waters with 
those of the Alleghany, it helped to form the great 
Oliio. Promising to meet them at this point, he and 
the rest of the party pushed tliitherward by land on 
horseback. Reacliing the Forks of the Ohio two 
days before the canoe-men, he spent the time in 
exploring the woods and hills and streams around, 
and was much struck with the advantages the place 
held out as a site for a military post. This, to- 
gether with other items meriting attention that 
happened to him or occurred to his mind during 
the expedition, he carefully noted down in a journal 
which he kept, to be laid, in the form of a report, 
before Gov. Dinwiddie, upon his return. The fol- 
lowing year, as a convincing proof to his countrymen 
how entirely they might rely on his foresight and 
judgment in such matters, French officers of skill 
and experience chose this very spot to be the site 
of Fort Duquesne, afterwards so famous in the bor- 
der history of our country. Near the close of the 
war, this post fell into the hands of the English, 
who changed its name to that of Fort Pitt ; which in 
time gave rise to the busy, thriving, noisy, dingy, 
fine young town of Pittsburg, a smoky-looking pic- 
ture of which you may see any time you choose to 
consult your geography. 

Instead of pushing on dh'ectly to the Lakes, Major 
Washington turned a little aside from his course, 
and went down the Oliio about twenty miles, to an 



BIG TALK AVITH WHITE THUNDER." 119 

Indian village called Logstown. Here, as had been 
previously arranged, he met a few sachems or chiefs 
of some of the Western tribes, to kindle a council- 
fire and have a Big Talk. He was received with 
much hospitality and courtesy by a stately old chief, 
whose Indian name you would not care to hear, as it 
would give Master Charlie's nut-crackers the jaw- 
ache to pronounce it. Among the English, however, 
as he was the head of a league or union of several 
tribes, he usually went by the name of the Half 
King. After the pipe had passed with all due gravi- 
ty from mouth to mouth, and every warrior, chief, 
and white man present had taken a whifF or two, in 
sign that all was good- will and peace between them, 
Washington arose, and addressed the Half Ejing 
in a short speech, somewhat after the following 
manner : — 

" Your brother, the Governor of Yirginia, has sent 
me with a letter to the big French captain, near Lake 
Erie. What is written therein deeply concerns you 
and your people as well as us. It was his desire, 
therefore, that you share with us the toils and dan- 
gers of this expedition, by sending some of your 
young men along with us, to guide us through the 
wildernesss where there Is no path, and be our safe- 
guard against the wiles of cunning and evil-minded 
men we may chance to meet by the way. This he 
will look upon as a still further proof of the love 
and friendship you bear your brothers, the English. 



120 . THE FAKMER BOY. 

As a pledge of his faith in all this, and as a token of 
liis love for his red brother, he sends this belt 
of wampum." 

Mr. Davidson having interpreted this speech, the 
Half Kins: for some moments after sat smokino- in 
profound silence, as if turning over in liis mind what 
he had just heard, or as if waiting, according to 
Indian notions of etiquette on such occasions, to as- 
sure himself that the speaker had made an end of 
his say. He then arose, and spoke to the following 
eiFect : — 

"I have heard the words of my young white 
brother, and they are true. I have heard the request 
of my brother the Governor of Virginia, and it is 
reasonable. At present, however, my young men are 
abroad in the forest, hunting game to provide against 
the wants of the coming winter, that our wives and 
children starve not when we are out upon the war- 
path. At the third setting of the sun from this time, 
they will be coming in ; when I will not only send 
some of them with my young white brother, but 
will myself bear him company. For he must know 
that we have ceased to look upon the French as our 
friends. They have trespassed upon our soil ; they 
have spoken words of insult and mockery to our 
oldest sachems. For this cause have my people 
resolved to return them the speech-belt they gave us 
at the Big Talk we had last winter at Montreal. 
It is that I may defy the big French captain to 



"big talk" ayith "white thunder." 121 

his teeth, and fling his speech-belt in his face, 
that I now go with mj young brother, the Lono- 
Knife." * 

On the third day, as had been promised, the youno- 
men came in from hunting ; from among whom the 
Half King chose eight or ten to serve as an addi- 
tional escort to Major Washington during the 
expedition. Among these was a warrior of great 
distinction, who went by the tremendous name of 
White Thunder, and was keeper of the speech-belt. 
;N"ow, you must know, that in Indian politics, when 
two tribes exchange speech-belts, it is understood 
to be an expression of peace and good-will between 
them ; while to return or throw them away is the 
same as a declaration of war, or at least to be taken 
as a hint that all friendly intercourse between them 
is at an end. The " keeper of the speech-belt " was, 
therefore, a kind of " secretary of state " among 
these simple people. 

Thus re-enforced by his red allies, Washington, 
who had grown somewhat impatient under this 
delay, gladly turned his face once more towards the 
Great Lakes. All this time, the rain had continued 
to fall with scarcely an hour's intermission. The 
streams and low meadow-lands were so flooded in 
consequence, that they were often obliged to wander 
many a weary mile over rugged highlands and through 
tangled forests, without finding themselves any nearer 
their journey's end. Now and then, coming to some 

6 



122 THE F.\EMER BOV. 

muddy, swollen stream, in order to gain the opposite 
side without getting their baggage wet, they must 
needs cross over on rafts rudely constructed of logs 
and grape-vines, and make their horses swim along 
behind them. It was near the middle of December, 
before the little party, jaded and travel-stained, 
reached their destination. 

Major Washington was received with true soldierly 
courtesy by the French general, to whom he at once 
delivered Gov. Dinwiddie's letter. A few days be- 
ing requested for a due consideration of its contents, 
as well as the answer to be returned, he spent the 
time, as he had been instructed, in gaining all the in- 
formation he could, without exciting suspicion, touch- 
ing the designs of the French in the North-west, — 
to what extent they had won over the several Indian 
tribes to their interest ; the number of troops they 
had brought into the territory ; and the number, 
strength, and situation of the forts they had built. 
The fort where the French general then had his head- 
quarters stood on the banks of a little river called 
French Creek, in which Washington observed lying, 
and bade his men count, a large number of canoes, to 
be used early in the following spring for transporting 
men and military stores down the Ohio. All the 
hints and items thus gathered he carefully noted 
down in his journal, to be laid, as I have told 
you already, in the form of a report, before Gov. 
Dinwiddie, iqjon his return. 



'big TAI.K" WITH "white THUNDER." 123 

Being wary and watchful, he was not long in dis- 
covering that the French were tampering with his 
Indian allies ; tempting them, by the gayest of pre- 
sents, the fairest of promises, and the hottest of fire- 
water, to break faith with the English, and join their 
cause. These underhand dealings gave Washington 
much uneasiness of mind ; and he complained to the 
French general, yet in a firm and dignified manner, 
of the unfair advantao:e thus taken of the besettins: 
weakness of these poor people. 

Of course, the wily old Frenchman denied all 
knowledge of the matter ; although we are bound 
to believe, that, as these tricks and intrigues were 
going on under his very nose, he must certainly 
have winked at, if he did not openly encourage them. 

It is true that the Indians were by no means too 
nice to eniich themselves with French presents, and 
get drunk on French whiskey ; yet, for all that, they 
tm-ned a deaf ear to French promises, and, keeping 
their faith unbroken, remained as true as hickory to 
their friends the Enghsh. Even the Half King, 
stately and commanding as he was in council, yielded 
to the pleasing temptation along with the rest ; and, 
for the greater part of the time, lay beastly drunk 
about the fort. ^^Tien at last he came to his sober 
senses, he was not a little chopfallen upon being 
somewhat sternly reminded by Major Washington of 
the business that had brought him thither, the recol- 
lection of wliich he had seemingly drowned in his 



124 THE FARMEK BOY. 

enemy's whiskey. Whereupon, as if to show that 
all his threats and promises had been made In good 
faith, he went forthwith to the French general, and 
delivered the grave oration he had composed for the 
occasion ; at the same time returning the speech-belt 
White Thunder had brought, as a sign that all 
friendly relations between the French and his peo- 
ple were at an end. 

At last, having received the answer to Gov. Din- 
widdie's letter, and looked into matters and things 
about Mm as far as he could with prudence. Major 
Washington was now anxious to be away from the 
place where he had already been detained too long. 
During his stay, however, he had been treated with the 
greatest respect and courtesy by the accomplished 
Frenchman, who presented him, upon his departure, 
with a large canoe, laden with a liberal supply of 
liquors and provisions, that lasted him and liis men 
until they reached the Ohio. 

To spare the horses as much as possible, Wash- 
ington had sent them, w^ith two or three of the men, 
by land to Venango, a fort about fifteen miles below ; 
whither he now set out to follow them by water. 
The navigation of this little river, owing to its shal- 
lows and the masses of floating ice that here and 
there blocked up its channel, was dilBScult and toil- 
some in the extreme. Oftentimes, to prevent their 
frail canoes from being dashed to pieces against the 
rocks, would they be compelled to get out into the 



„ j> ,„^^^^ r? 



"BIG TALK" WITH ' A\TIITE THimDER." 125 

cold water for half an hour at a time, and guide 
them ^ath their hands down the whnling and rapid 
current, and now and then even to carry them and 
their loads by land around some foaming cataract to 
the smoother water below. After an u'ksome little 
voyage, they reached Venango, fully satisfied that 
to go further by water was quite out of the ques- 
tion. 



XI. 



CHRISTMAS IN THE WILDERNESS. 

HERE, at Yenango, Major Washington, much 
to his regret, was compelled to part company 
with the Half King and his other red allies. White 
Thunder, keeper of the speech-belt, had been so 
seriously injured in their passage down, as to be, for 
the present, quite unable to travel ; and the rest 
would not think of leaving him, but needs must 
tarry there until then' friend should be well enough 
to be brought in a canoe down the Alleghany. 

Remounting their horses, our little party once 
more took their weary way through the wilderness. 
It was now the 2 2d of December. The weather was 
bitter cold ; the snow fell thick and fast, and froze 
as it fell ; and the bleak winds moaned drearily 
among the naked trees. The forest streams were 
frozen from bank to bank, yet often too thin to 
bear the weight of the horses ; which rendered their 
crossing painful and hazardous indeed. To add to 
the discomfort of our travellers, the horses, from 
poor and scanty fare, had become too weak to be 

[126] 



CHRISTMAS IN THE WILDERNESS. 127 

able longer to caiTy their allotted burdens. Moved 
with compassion at their pitiable plight, Washino-- 
ton dismounted from his fine saddle-horse, and 
loaded his with a part of the baggage; choosino- 
rather to toil along on foot, than to take his ease at 
the expense of pain even to these poor brutes. 
His humane example was' promptly followed by the 
rest of the party ; and only the two men kept the 
saddle to whom was intrusted the care of the bao-- 
gage. 

You can well imagine, that a Christmas spent in 
this wild waste of leafless woods and snowy hills 
was any thing but a merry one to these poor fellows, 
so far away from their homes, which, at that moment, 
they knew to be so bright and cheerful with the 
mirth and laughter of " old men and babes, and 
loving friends, and youths, and maidens gay." And 
yet I dare say, that, even there, they greeted each 
other on that blessed morning with a brighter smile 
than usual, and called to their remembrance, that 
on that morn a babe was born, who, in the fulness 
of years, has grown to be the light and love and 
glory of the earth. 

Seeing that the half-famished beasts were growino- 
weaker and weaker day by day, and that he would 
be too long in reaching his journey's end if he 
governed his speed by theirs, Washington left Capt. 
van Braam in command of the party, and pushed 
forward with no other company than Mr. Gist. 



128 THE F^VRMER BOY. 

Armed with their trusty rifles, and clad in the light 
dress of the Indians, with no extra covering for the 
night but their watch-coats, and with no other bag- 
gage but a small portmanteau containing their food 
and Major Washington's important papers, they 
now made rapid headway, and soon left their friends 
far behind. The next day, they came upon an 
Indian village called ]\Iurdering Town ; a name of 
evil omen, given it, perhaps, from its having been 
the scene of some bloody Indian massacre. What 
befell them here, I will tell you, as nearly as I can 
remember, in ]Mr. Gist's own words : — 

" We rose early in the morning, and set out at seven 
o'clock, and got to Murdering Town, on the south-east 
foi*k of Beaver Creek. Here we met with an Indian 
whom I thought I had seen at Joncaire's, at Venango, 
when on our journey up to the French fort. This fellow 
called me by my Indian name, and pretended to be glad to 
see me. He asked us several questions ; as, how we 
came to travel on foot, when we left Venango, where 
we parted with our horses, and when they would be there. 
Major Washington insisted on travelling by the nearest 
way to the forks of the Alleghany. We asked the Indian 
if he could go with us, and show us the nearest way. The 
Indian seemed very glad and ready to go with us ; upon 
which we set out, and the Indian took the Major's pack. 
We travelled very brisk for eight or ten miles ; when the 
Major's feet grew sore, and he very weary, and the Indian 
steered too much north-eastwardly. The Major desired to 
encamp ; upon which the Indian asked to carry his gun, 



CHPJSTJIAS IN THE WILDERNESS. 129 

but he refused ; and then the Indian grew churlish, and 
pressed us to keep on, telling us there ^Yere Ottawa Lidians 
in those woods, and they would scalp us if we lay out ; but 
go to his cabin, and we would be safe. 

" I thought very ill of the fellow, but did not care to let 
the Major know I mistrusted him. But he soon mistrusted 
him as much as I did. The Indian said he could hear a 
gun from his cabin, and steered us northwardly. We 
grew uneasy, and then he said two whoops might be heard 
from his cabin. We went two miles further. Then the 
Major said he would stay at the next water, and we 
desired the Indian to stop at the next water ; but, before 
we came to the water, we came to a clear meadow. It 
was very light, and snow was on the ground. The Indian 
made a stop, and turned about. The Major saw him point 
his gun towards us, and he fired. Said the Major, — 

" * Are you shot ? ' 

" ' No,' said I. 

" Upon which the Indian ran forward to a big standing 
white oak, and began loading his gun ; but we were soon 
with him. I would have killed him ; but the Major would 
not suffer me. We let him charge his gun. We found 
he put in a ball : then we took care of him. Either the 
Major or I always stood by the guns. We made him 
make a fire for us by a little run, as if we intended to 
sleep there. I said to the Major, — 

" ' As you will not have him killed, we must get him 
away, and then we must travel all night.' 

" Upon which I said to the Indian, — 

" ' I suppose you were lost, and fired your gun ? ' 

" He said he knew the way to his cabin : it was but a 
little distance. 



130 THE FAEMEE BOY. 

" ' Well,' said I, ' do you go home, and, as we are tired, 
we will follow your track in the morning ; and here is a 
cake of bread for you, and you must give us meat in the 
morning. 

" He was glad to get away. I followed him, and listened 
until he was fairly out of the way; and then we w^ent 
about half a mile, when we made a fire, set our compass, 
fixed our course, and travelled all night. In the morn- 
ing, we were on the head of Piny Creek." 

Thus you see, my dear cliildren, from this adven- 
ture, upon what slight accidents sometimes hang the 
destinies, not only of individuals, but even of great 
nations ; for had not this treacherous Indian missed 
his aim, and that too, in all likelihood, for the first 
time in a twelvemonth, it had never been our blessed 
privilege to know and love and reverence such a 
man as Washington ; and that, instead of being the 
free-born, independent people that he made us, we 
might have been at this very moment throw ing up 
our hats and wasting our precious breath in shouts 
of " Long life to Queen Victoria ! " 

All that day they walked on, w^eary and foot-sore, 
through the deep snow, without a trace of living man 
to enliven their solitary w^ay. The cold gray of a 
winter's evening was deepening the shadows of the 
forest when they came to the banks of the Alleghany ; 
and here a new^ disappointment awaited them. They 
had all along cheered themselves wath the prospect 
of crossing this river on the ice : but they found it 



-f 



CHRIST3IAS IN THE WILDERNESS. 131 

frozen for about fifty yards only from either bank ; 
while the rest of the ice, broken into huge cakes, 
went floating swiftly down the main channel, crush- 
ing and grinding together, and filling the hollow 
woods around with dolefid noises. 

With heavy hearts they kindled their camp-fire, 
and cooked and ate their frugal supper ; then, 
making themselves as comfortable as the piercing- 
winds would allow, they lay down on their snowy 
beds to sleep, hopeful that the morrow would bring 
them better luck. Morning dawned, and yet 
brought with it no brighter prospect. Would you 
know what they did in this grievous state ? Listen 
while I read Major Washington's own account of it, 

as we find it written in his journal : — 

« 

" There was no way for getting over but on a raft ; 
which we set about, with but one poor hatchet, and finished 
just after sun-setting. This was a whole day's work. We 
next got it launched ; then went on board of it, and set off. 
But, before we were half way over, we were jammed in the 
ice, in such a manner that we expected every moment our 
raft to sink, and ourselves to perish. I put out my settino-- 
pole to try and stop the raft, that the ice might pass by ; 
when the rapidity of the stream threw it with so much vio- 
lence against the pole, that it jerked me out into ten feet 
of water : but I fortunately saved myself by catching hold 
of one of the raft-logs. Notwithstanding all our efforts, we 
could not get to either shore, but were obhged, as we were 
near an island, to quit our raft, and make to it. The cold 



132 THE FARMER BOY. 

was so extremely severe, that Mr. Gist had all his fingers, 
and some of his toes, frozen ; and the water was shut up so 
hard, that we found no difficulty in getting off the island, 
on the ice, in the morning, and went to Mr. Frazier's." 

Here, for a space, they stopped to rest and refresh 
themselves after the fatigue and exposure they had 
just undergone ; and here, among other items of 
interest, they heard that Queen Aliquippa, an Indian 
princess, had been deeply offended that the young 
Long Knife had passed by her royal shanty, the 
month before, without calling to pay his compliments. 
Major Washington, well knowing that to humor their 
peculiar whims and fancies was the best mode of 
securing the good-w^ill and friendship of these people, 
hastened at once to present liimself before her copper 
majesty, and make w^hat amends he could for his 
breach of etiquette. The present of a bottle of rum 
(over w^hich, queen that she was, she smacked her 
lips), and of his old watch-coat, that w^ould so hand- 
somely set off her buckskin leggins, softened her ire 
completely, and made her, from that time forward, 
the stanch friend and ally of the English. 

Travelling on a few miles further, they came to 
Mr. Gist's house, on the banks of the Monongahela, 
where Washins^ton bou2:ht a horse to bear him to 
his journey's end, and parted w^ith his trusty guide. 
He was now entirely alone ; and a wide stretch of 
woods and mountains, swamps and frozen streams, 
still lay between him and the cheerful homes to 



CHEISTIilAS m THE ^VILDERNESS. 133 

whose comforts he had been so lono: a strano-er. 
Now and then, the loneliness of the way would be for 
a moment enlivened by the sight of some sturdy 
backwoodsman, axe or rifle on shoulder, pushino- 
westward, with his wife and children and doos and 
household trumpery, to find a home in some still 
more distant part of the wilderness. It was mid- 
winter, when, after having been absent eleven weeks 
on his perilous mission, our young Virginian, looking 
more like a wild Indian than the civil and Christian 
gentleman that he really was, rode into the town of 
Williamsburg, nor halted until he had alighted and 
hitched his horse in front of the o-overnor's house. 



XII. 
Washington's first battle. 

UPON Ills arrival, Major AYaslilngi:on hastened 
at once to lay before Gov. Dinwiddie, and the 
Virginia Legislature then in session, the French gene- 
ral's letter, and the journal he had kept during the 
expedition. 

In his letter, the French general spoke in high and 
flattering terms of the character and talents of young 
Washino;ton ; but, in Ian2:ua2:e most decided and 
unmistakable, refused to withdraw his troops from the 
disputed territory, or cease building forts therein, as 
had been demanded of him, unless so ordered by his 
royal master, the King of France, to whose wishes 
only he owed respect and obedience. From the 
tenor of tliis letter, it was plainly enough to be seen 
(what might, in fact, have been seen before) , that the 
French were not in the least inclined to give up, at 
the mere asking, all that they had been at so much 
pains and expense at gaining. It therefore followed, 
that as the title to this bit of forest land could not be 
written with the pen, on fair paper, in letters of 
Christian ink, it must needs be written with the 

[134] 



Washington's first battle. 135 

sword, on the fair earth, in letters of Christian blood. 
By this, the little folks are to understand their Uncle 
Juvinell to mean that war alone could settle the 
question between them. And this unreasonable 
behavior, on the part of two great nations, has 
already, I doubt not, brought to your minds the 
story of two huge giants, who, chancing to meet 
one night, fell into a long and stormy dispute with 
each other about the possession of a fair bit of 
meadow-land they had happened to spy out at the 
same moment, where it lay in the lower horn of the 
moon ; and who finally, like the silly monsters that 
they were, began belaboring each other with their 
heavy malls, as if the last hope of beating a little 
reason in were to beat a few brains out. 

To drive and keep back the French and their In- 
dian allies. Gov. Dinwiddie made a call on the Vir- 
ginia militia, and wrote to the governors of some of 
the neighboring provinces, urging them, for their 
common defence, to do the same. To strengthen 
their borders, and give security to their frontier set- 
tlers, a small party of pioneers and carpenters were 
sent to build a fort at the Forks of the Ohio, as 
Washington had recommended in his journal. This 
journal, by the way, throwing, as it did, so much 
new light on the designs of the French in America, 
was thought worthy of publication, not only through- 
out the Colonies, but also in the mother-country. 
The good sense, skill, address, and courage shown 



136 THE FARMER BOY. 

by the young Virginian throughout the late expedi- 
tion, had drawn upon him the eyes of his country- 
men ; and, from that time forward, he became the 
hope and promise of his native land. As a proof of 
this high regard, he was offered the command of the 
regiment to be raised : which, however, he refused to 
accept ; for his modesty told him that he was too 
young and inexperienced to be intrusted with a matter 
of such moment to his country. To Col. Fry, an 
officer of some note in the province, the command 
of the regiment was therefore given ; under whom he 
was quite willing to accept the post of lieutenant- 
colonel. 

Notwithstanding the pressing danger that threat- 
ened all alike, the people were shamefully slow in 
answering the summons to arms. Washington had 
felt confident, that, at the very first tap of the drum, 
squads upon squads of active, sturdy, well-fed, well- 
clothed young farmers, moved by the same spirit 
with himself, would come flockins^ to his standard 
with their trusty rifles, powder-horns, and hunting- 
pouches, ready and eager to do their country service. 
Instead of this, however, there gathered about him 
a rabble of ragamuffins and worthless fellows, who 
had spent their lives in tramping up and down the 
country, without settled homes or occupations. 

Some were without hats and shoes ; some had 
coats, and no shirts ; some had shirts, and no coats ; 
and all were without arms, or any keen desire to use 



WASHINGTON'S FIRST BATTLE. 137 

them if they had them. All this disgusted and dis- 
heartened our youthful colonel not a little ; for he 
was young, and had yet to learn that it is of just 
such stuff that the beginnings of armies are always 
made. The slender pay of a soldier was not enough 
to tempt the thriving yeomanry to leave their rich 
acres and snug firesides to undergo the hardships and 
dangers of a camp life ; as if, by failing to answer 
their country's call, and fighting in its defence, they 
were not running a still greater risk of losing all 
they had. 

To encourage the young men of the province to 
come forward, Gov. Dinwiddle caused it to be pro- 
claimed, that two hundred thousand acres of the very 
best land on the head-waters of the Ohio should be 
divided between those that should enlist and serve 
during the war. This splendid offer had, in some 
small measure, the effect desired ; so that, in a short 
time, something like an army was cobbled together, 
with which, poor and scantily provided as it was, 
they at last resolved to take the field. 

Col. Washington, in command of the main body, 
was ordered to go on in advance, and cut a military 
road through the wilderness, in the direction of the 
new fort at the Forks of the Ohio, by way of the Mo- 
nongahela; w^hile Col. Fry was to remain behind 
with the rest of the troops, to bring up the cannon 
and heavy stores when the road should be opened. 
When tlie pioneers had cut their way about twenty 



138 THE FARMER BOY. 

miles beyoii(J the frontier toAvn of Winchester, there 
came a rumor, that the men who had been sent to 
build the fort at the Forks of the Ohio had all been 
surprised and captured by the French. In a few 
days, all doubts as to the truth of this report were 
set at rest by the men themselves, who came walking 
leisurely into camp, with their spades and axes on 
their shoulders, to every appearance quite well and 
comfortable. 

For several days, they said, they had been work- 
ing away on the fort quite merrily ; when, early one 
morning, they were much surprised to see one thou- 
sand Frenchmen, in sixty bateaux, or boats, and 
three hundred canoes, with six pieces of cannon, 
dropping quietly down the Alleghany. The leader 
of this gallant little force summoned the fort to 
surrender in the short space of an hour, or else they 
would find their unfinished timber-work tumblinsT 
about their heads in a way that would not be alto- 
gether agreeable. K'o one with even half his wits 
about him would have for a moment thou2:ht of 
defending an unfinished fort with axes, spades, and 
augers, against a force of twenty times their number, 
backed by cannon and grape-shot. These men had 
all their wits about them, and, to prove it, gave up 
the fort without further parley ; when the French 
captain marched in, and took formal possession of 
the wooden pen in the name of his most Christian 
majesty, the King of France; after which, with 



Washington's first battle. 139 

that gayety and good-humor so often to be observed 
among the French people, he invited the young 
ensign — who, in the absence of the captain, had 
been left in the command of the fort for that day — 
to dine and drink a glass of wine with him. He 
then suffered them all to depart in peace with his 
good wishes, and with their spades, carpenter's tools, 
and axes on their shoulders. 

Col. Washington was deeply mortified at this 
intelligence ; but, like the manly man that he was, 
he put a bright face on the matter, and, to keep up 
the spirits of his men, resolved to push on with the 
road with more vigor than ever. And a tremendous 
undertaking this was, I assure you. The tallest of 
trees were to be felled, the hugest of rocks to be 
split and removed, the deepest of swamps to be filled, 
and the swiftest of mountain torrents bridged over. 
With such hinderances, you will not wonder that 
they made but four miles a day. Now and then, 
the soldiers would be obliged to put their shoulders 
to the wheel, and help the poor half-famished horses 
with their heavy wagons up some rough and rocky 
steep. Thus over the gloomy mountains, and down 
the rugged defiles, and through a dark and lonely 
valley since called the Shades of Death, they forced 
their toilsome way. At last, after many weary days, 
they reached the banks of the Youghiogeny, — a 
romantic little river that went tumbling down the 
green hills in many a foaming waterfall ; then, like 



140 THE FARMER BOY. 

a frolicsome schoolboy nearing school, put on a 
demure and sober face, and quietly empted itself 
into the more tranquil Monongahela. Here, to give 
his worn-out men and horses some repose after their 
severe and unceasing labors, Washington ordered a 
halt. 

Being told by some friendly Indians that the bag- 
gage could be carried down this stream by water, he 
set out early one morning in a canoe, with four or 
^ye white men, and an Indian for a guide, to see 
for himself what truth there might be in this report. 
When they had rowed about ten miles, their Indian 
guide, after sulking for a little while, laid his oar 
across the canoe, and refused to go further. At first, 
this behavior appeared to them a little queer ; but 
they were not long in discovering that it was only 
a way the cunning red rascal had of higgling to get 
more pay for his services. After some pretty sharp 
bargaining. Col. Washington promised to give him 
his old watch-coat and a ruffled shirt if he would 
go on ; upon which, Avithout more ado, he picked up 
his oar, and for the rest of the trip steered away 
blithely enough. You can well imagine what an 
uncommon swell this savage dandy, with his bare 
red legs, must have cut, a few days after, in his 
civilized finery, among the copper-cheeked belles 
of the woods. By the time they had rowed twenty 
miles further, Washington was satisfied, that, owing 
to the rocks and rapids, a passage down this river 



WAsiiiN(i'i'()N\s I'iK'sr I'.yni.K. Ml 

in (lie, hIijiIIow cjuioch of (Ik; IikIIjuih wjih mtxt to 
iiiipos.sihlc. 

Ivc-turiiin^ to cninp, Ik; hoom JiftorwJinls received 
word from IiIh old fVIctnd and ally, the Half* Klii^, 
tli.'it a ]).'ii-ty of r'lCMcli had l)e(;n H(;eii eoinlii;^ IVoiri 
tli(! (liicclloii of r'ort DiKjiicHiK;, who wc^re in all 
lik('lilioo<l, hy tiiMt lime, Hoiii(!wli(!r(; In IiIh cIoho 
neln^hhorhood. Upon hearing;' thI.M, WaHhIn«;ton 
deenicd It |)ni(I(;iit to full hack a few nillcH to iIk; 
(iicnt MeadowH, a Ixjautlful lltth; plain, Hltjiat(*d In 
the midst of woo(1h and IiIIIh, jukI <IIvI<l<;d hy a jIvii- 
h't. l[(i(^ h(! lhi(!W iij) HtronjLjj intren(jhnientH, 
(bleared ;i,vv;iy the inidcr^rowth, and prepared what 
hv, cnllcd "a ch:irmlii^- fi(;Id for ;ui crw^oimter." 
Shortly aftcir, Mr. (Jlst, wlioiri you well rcmcmher, 
cjinie Into cjuiip, from his home; on the IVI()non<i^^:ih(!la, 
with llic tuMnij^H, lh;it Ji, pMity of Fr(;ncli h;i(l heeri 
:it his house; on the; d;iy hcforc;, whom, from their 
jipp(!aran(;e, he hchcvcMl to Ixi HpI(\M. WaHhln^ton 
sent out some of his men on wa;^on-horHCH to beat 
the woods ; whocsime In about dusk, without havln<^, 
how(!Vcr, dlscovcrcMl any traecs of ihc; enemy. About 
nliKi o'clock that sjiirK; nl;;'ht, an Indian runner camci 
from the Half Kln;^,' with word, thiit souk; of bin 
hunt(»rH \iiu\ hitc llint cvcuilnfi,' Ham the tracks of I wo 
l^'»(;nejunen not five mlhiK distant ; and that, If (/ol. 
WaHhIngton would join him wilh sonit; oi' his men, 
they woiihl S(;t out (larly In the mornln/i^' In rpuist ol' 
tin; luikinii (o(;. 



142 THE FARMER BOY. 

Taking with him about forty men, and leaving 
the rest to guard the intrenchments , Washington 
set out forthwith for the Indian camp. Their way 
led them through tall and thick woods, that were 
then in the full leaf of early summer. As if to 
deepen their gloom, the sky was overcast with the 
blackest of clouds, from which the rain poured down 
in torrents ; and the night, of course, was as dark as 
dark could be. No wonder, then, that they were 
continually losing their path, which was but a deer- 
track, and none of the plainest, even in broad day- 
light. When any one discovered that he had lost 
liimself, he would shout, and set himself right again 
by the answering shouts of his comrades who might 
be so lucky as to be in the path at that moment. 
After blundering about all night through marshy 
thickets, slipping upon slimy rocks, and scrambling 
over the oozy trunks of fallen trees, they reached 
the Indian camp at daybreak in a somewhat moist 
and bedabbled plight, as you may well imagine. 
The Half King seemed overjoyed at seeing his young 
white brother once more ; and, with true Indian hos- 
pitality, set before him and his men the best his 
camp afforded. After breakfasting heartily on bear's 
meat, venison, -and parched corn, they all set out 
together, much refreshed, to seek what game might 
be in the wind. The Half King led the way to the 
spot where the two tracks had been seen the evening 
before ; and, having found them, told two of his 



Washington's first battle. 143 

sharp-eyed hunters to follow the trail until they 
could bring some tidings of the feet that had made 
them. Like hounds on the scent of a fox, they 
started off at a long trot ; only pausing now and 
then to look more closely at the leaves, to make sure 
they were right, and not on a cold scent. In a 
short time, they came back with word that they 
had spied twenty-five or thirty French and Cana- 
dians encamped in a low, narrow bottom, between 
high and steep hills, who looked as if they were 
desirous of concealment. Whereupon Washington 
proposed that the two parties should divide, and, 
stealing upon the enemy from opposite directions, 
surprise and capture him, if possible, without the 
shedding of blood. To this the Half King agreed ; 
and, parting, they moved off in profound silence, 
each on their separate way. 

A sudden turn of the hollow, down which they 
had been making their way for several minutes, 
brought Washington and his party, ere they were 
well aware, in full view of the enemy. Some were 
cooking their morning's meal, some were preparing 
their arms for the day's excursion, some were loun- 
ging, and all were merry. But, seeing as soon as 
seen, they ran with all speed to their guns, that were 
leaned against the trees hard by, and, without more 
ado, began firing In so brisk and earnest a manner, 
that left the Virginians no choice but to return it, 
which they did with spirit. About the same time. 



144 THE FARMER BOY. 

the Half Kino; and his warriors came down to the 
bottom of the hill on the opposite side of the hollow, 
and, screening themselves behind a bit of rising 
ground, joined the music of their rifles with the rest. 
For about fifteen minutes, tlie skirmish was kept up 
with great spirit on both sides ; when the French, 
having lost ten of their number (among whom was 
their leader, Capt. de Jumonville), surrendered, and 
yielded up their arms. Washington had one man 
shot dead at his side, and three men wounded ; but 
his Indian allies, protected as they were by the rising 
ground, came off without the loss of a single feather 
or porcupine-quill. Unluckily, in the heat of tlie 
encounter, a swift-footed Canadian, better, no doubt, 
at dodging than shooting, managed to make liis es- 
cape, and carried the news to Fort Duquesne. 

The Half King and his warriors, I am sorry to 
tell you, would have butchered the prisoners in cold 
blood, had not Washington sternly forbidden them. 
They therefore consoled themselves as best they might 
for this disappointment by scalping the dead ; which, 
however, yielded them but sorry comfort, as there 
were but ten scalps to be divided among forty war- 
riors. 

The Half King was much offended by this humane 
interference, on the part of his young white brother, 
in behalf of the prisoners ; for he seemed to tliink, 
that as they were spies, and French spies at that, 
they richly deserved to be scalped alive. Such 



Washington's first battle. 145 

milk-and-water, half-way measures might do for 
pale-faces, but were not the sort of entertainment 
to be relished by a genuine Indian brave of the first 
water, or, to speak more to the point, of the first 
blood. 

Without, however, in the least heeding these 
muttered grumblings of the worthy old chief, who 
had his failings along with the rest of mankind. 
Col. Washington took the prisoners to his camp, 
where he treated them with even more kindness and 
courtesy than they as spies deserved. From thence 
he sent them under a strong guard to Williamsburg, 
and wrote to Gov. Dinwiddle, begging him to treat 
them with all the humanity due to prisoners of war, 
but to keep a strict watch over them, as there were 
among them two or three very cunning and dan- 
gerous men. 

This encounter, commonly called the Jumonville 
affair, caused a great sensation, not only throughout 
the Colonies, but also in France and England ; for It 
was there, as you must know, in that remote and 
obscure little valley, that flowed the first blood of this 
long and eventful war. It was Washington's first 
battle ; and, being a successful one, much inspirited 
him. In a letter written at this time to his brother 
Augustine, after touching upon the particulars of 
this skirmish, he says, "I heard the bullets whistle; 
and, believe me, there is something charming In the 
sound." 

7 



XIII. 

FORT NECESSITY. 

ABOUT this time, Col. Fry died at AVills's 
Creek, where he had lain ill of a fever for 
several weeks ; and Wasliington, as the next in rank, 
was obliged to take command of the regiment. 
Although this change brought with it an increase of 
pay and honors, yet it caused him the sincerest 
regret ; for even then, young as he was, he had the 
good of his country more earnestly at heart than his 
own private advantage. He said, and with unfeigned 
modesty, that he feared he was scarcely equal to the 
discharge of such high and responsible duties, with- 
out the aid and counsel of some older and more 
experienced officer. 

Capt. de Yilliers was now commander of the 
French at Fort Duquesne. When tidings of the late 
encounter reached this officer through the swift- 
footed Canadian, he swore a deep oath that he would 
chastise the audacious young Virginian for what he 
chose to call this barbarous outrage, and avenge 
the death of De Jumonville, whose brother-in-law, 
as ill luck would have it, he chanced to be. Fore- 

[146] 



FORT NECESSITY. 147 

seeing his danger, and to defend himself against the 
superior force he knew would be brought against 
him, Col. Washington set about forthwith to 
strengthen his works. He dug the ditches deeper, 
raised the breastworks higher, and surrounded the 
whole with a row of palisades, firmly planted in 
the ground, and set so close together as scarcely to 
allow of a g-un-barrel passing between them. 

OAving to the shameful neglect of those whose 
duty it was to send up supplies, he and his men suf- 
fered much from the want of food, — many days at 
a stretch sometimes passing by without their tasting 
bread. To aggravate tliis new distress, the Half 
King and many of his warriors, with their wives and 
children, now sought refuge in the fort from the ven- 
geance of the French and their savage alhes ; which 
added nothing to their strength, and only increased the 
number of hungry mouths to be fed. To this place, 
then, where gaunt famine pinched them from within 
and watchful enemies beset them from without, 
Washington gave the fitting name of Fort Necessity. 
Luckily for them, while in this pitiable plight, days 
and days passed by, and still no avenging De Yilliers 
showed himself, though alarms were frequent. 

Col. Washington now ordered Major Muse to 
bring up the rest of the troops that had been waiting 
all this while at Wills's Creek, with the heavy stores 
and cannon. To reward the friendly Indians for 
their services and fidelity. Major Muse brought with 



148 THE FARMER BOY. 

liiin presents of hntehets and knives, guns, powder 
and lead, tin eups, needles and jilns, beads, and dry- 
goods of every gaudy hue, and it may be, altliough 
we ean only guess it, a ruiHed shirt or two. In 
addition to these, there eanie a number of silver 
medals for the eliief saehenis, sent by Gov. Din- 
widdie at the suiru'estion of Col. Washino'ton, who 
well knew how nuieh these sinii>le peopW prize little 
compliments of tliis kind. ]\Iajor ]Muse handed 
out the presents, while Washington hung tlie medals 
about the neeks of the sachems, which yielded them 
far more delight, you will be soriy to hear, than 
their good old missionary's catechism. This was 
done with all that show and parade so dear to an 
Indian's heart ; and, to oive a still finer ed^'c to the 
present occasion, they christened each other all over 
again : that is to say, the red men gave the white 
men Indian names, and the Avhite men gave the red 
men English names. Thus, for example, AVashing- 
ton gave the Half King the name of Dinwiddle, 
which pleased him greatly; while he, in his turn, 
bestowed on his young white brother a long, high- 
sounding Indian name, that you coidd pronomice as 
readily spelt backwards as forwards, i Fairfax was 
the name given a young sachem, the sui of Queen 
Alicpiippa, whose eternal friendship to the English, 
it must be borne in mind, had been secured by 
Washington, the previous winter, by the present of 
an old coat and a bottle of rum. 



FORT NECE8HITY. 11 

l\y llic, jh1vI<'(; of IiIh old juul irm(',li-(!Ht,oomo(l frlond, 
Col. WIlllMin F;urf';ix, VV;i.sliIii;^l,on li;ul (livin(; vvor- 
fililj) ill (Ik; fori, (JJiily, In wlilcli Ik; led; niid, tliardss 
to the (;!i,rly toac'hin^H of his pious inotlicr, Ik; could 
do lliis, ;uid sin not,. Soh^rrin indeed, my d(;ar 
eliildren, and hcantifnl to heliold, must li;i,v(; hccn 
that pi(5tijr(!, — that llttlo fort, ho i'nv Jivvay In the 
heart of the lonely wIld(;rn(;HH, with ItH motley thron;^ 
of f);ilnted IndluTis and leatli(;r-elad haekvvoodsm(;n 
gath(M*ed round their yonn<^ eommander, an, inornln;^ 
and cvcninf^, he kneeled in prayer before the Giver 
of all good, bcHeeehing aid and protection, and giving 
thank.s. 

Ah if to put IiIh manhood and patience to a fltill 
severer test, there came to the; fort about thin time 
an independ(;nt eom|)any of one liiindred North 
CarolinlanH, headed f)y one Capt. Mae.kay, wlio 
refused to serve under him as his sujxjrior officer. 
As his reason for this conduct, Mackay argued that 
he held a royal commission (that is to say, had Ixjen 
made a captain by the King of England) , whieli mjidc; 
him equal in rank, if not superior, to Washington, 
who held only a provincial commission, or had been 
made a coL nel by the Governor of Virginia. This, 
in part, was but too true ; and It had been a source 
of dissatisfaction to Washington, that the rank and 
services of colonial officers should be held at a 
cheaper rate than th(i Hnrne were valued at in tin; 
royal army. It wounded his honest, manly pride, 



150 TIIE FARMER BOY. 

and offended his high sense of justice ; and he had 
ah'eady resolved in his own mind to quit such 
inglorious service, as soon as he could do so without 
injury to the present campaign, or loss of honor to 
himself. To most men, the lofty airs and pretensions 
of Capt. Mackay and his Independents would have 
been unbearable : but he kept his temper unruffled, 
and, w^ith a prudence beyond his years, forbore to do 
or say any tiling that would lead to an angry outbreak 
between them ; and as they chose to encamp outside 
the fort, and have separate guards, he deemed it 
wisest not to trouble himself about them, only so far 
as might concern their common safety. 

Days, and even weeks, had now passed away, and 
still no enemy had come to offer him battle. His 
men were becoming restless from inaction ; and the 
example of the troublesome Independents had already 
begun to stir up discontent among them, which 
threatened, if not checked in season, to end in down- 
right insubordination. As the surest remedy for 
these evils, Washington resolved to push forward 
with the road in the direction of Fort Duquesne, and 
carry the war into the enemy's own country. Re- 
questing Capt. Mackay to guard the fort during his 
absence, he set out with his entire force of three hun- 
dred men, and again began the toilsome work of 
cutting a road through the wilderness. The difficul- 
ties they had now to overcome were even greater than 
those which beset them at the outset of their pioneer- 



FORT NECESSITY. 151 

ing. The mountains were higher, the swamps 
deeper, the rocks more massive, the trees taller and 
more numerous, the torrents more rapid, the days 
more hot and sultry, and the men and horses more 
enfeebled by poor and scanty food. You will not 
w^onder, then, that they were nearly two weeks in 
reaching Mr. Gist's plantation on the Monongahela, 
a distance of but fifteen miles. 

But hardly had they pitched their tents, and thrown 
themselves on the grass to snatch a little rest, when 
there came the disheartening intelligence, brought in 
by their Indian spies, that Capt. de Yilliers had been 
seen to sally from Fort Duquesne but a few hours 
before, at the head of a force of five hundred French 
and four hundred Indians, and must by that time 
be within a few miles of the Virginia camp. For 
three hundred weary and hungry men to wait and 
give battle to a force three times their number, fresh 
and well fed, was a thing too absurd to be thought 
of for a single moment. Washington, therefore, as 
their only chance of safety, ordered a hasty retreat, 
hoping that they might be able to reach the settle- 
ments on Wills's Creek before the enemy could over- 
take him. The retreat, however, was any thing but 
a hasty one ; for the poor half-famished horses were 
at last no longer able to drag the heavy cannon and 
carry the heavy baggage. Moved with pity for the 
lean and tottering beasts, Washington dismounted 
from his fine charger, and gave him for a pack-horse ; 



152 THE FARMEK BOY. 

which humane example was promptly followed by 
his officers. Yet even this was not enough : so, while 
some of the jaded men loaded their backs with the 
baggage, the rest, as jaded, dragged the artillery 
along the stony roads with ropes, rather than that it 
should be left behind to fall into the hands of the 
enemy. For this good service, rendered so willingly 
in that hour of sore distress, they went not unre- 
warded by their generous young commander. 

Capt. Mackay and his company of Independents 
had, at Washington's request, come up a little while 
before, and now joined in the retreat. But they 
joined in nothing else ; for, pluming themselves 
upon their greater respectability as soldiers of his 
Britannic majesty, they lent not a helping hand in 
this hour of pressing need, although the danger that 
lurked behind threatened all alike. They marched 
along, these coxcombs, daintily picking their way 
over the smoothest roads, and too genteel to be bur- 
dened with any thing but their clean muskets and 
tidy knapsacks. This ill-timed and insolent behavior 
served only to aggravate the trials of the other poor 
fellows all the more ; and when, at last, they had 
managed to drag the cannon and the wagons and 
themselves to Fort Necessity, they were so overcome 
with fatigue and hunger, and so moved with indigna- 
tion at the conduct of the Independents, that they 
threw down their ropes and packs, and flatly refused 
to be marched fm-ther. Seeing their pitiful plight, 



FORT NECESSITY. 153 

and that it would be impossible to reach the settle- 
ments, Col. Washington, as their last chance of 
safety, turned aside, and once more took shelter in 
his little fort. 

As Capt. Mackay and his company of gentlemen 
fiofhters had done nothinoj towards streno^thenino^ the 
works during his absence, Washington ordered a few 
trees to be felled in the woods hard by, as a still fur- 
ther barrier to the approach of the enemy. Just as 
the last tree went crashing down, the French and 
their Indian allies, nine hundred strong, came In 
sight, and opened a scattering fire upon the fort, but 
from so great a distance as made It httle more than 
an idle waste of powder and lead. Suspecting this 
to be but a feint of the crafty foe to decoy them into 
an ambuscade, Wasliington ordered lils men to keep 
within the shelter of the fort, there to lie close, and 
only to shoot when they could plainly see where their 
bullets were to be sent. 

A light skirmishing was kept up all day, and until 
a late hour In the night ; the Indians keeping the 
while within the shelter of the woods, which at no 
point came witliln sixty yards of the palisades. 
Whenever an Indian scalp-lock or a French cap 
showed Itself from among the trees or bushes. It that 
instant became the mark of a dozen sharpshooters 
watching at the rifle-holes of the fort. All that day, 
and all the night too, the rain poured down from one 
black cloud, as only a summer rain can pour, till 

7* 



154 THE FAEMER BOY. 

the ditclies were filled with water, and the breast- 
works nothing but a bank of miry clay ; till the men 
were drenched to the skin, and the guns of many so 
dampened as to be unfit for use. 

About nine o'clock that night, the firing ceased ; 
and shortly after a voice was heard, a little distance 
beyond the pahsades, calling upon the garrison, in 
the name of Capt. de Villiers, to surrender. Sus- 
pecting this to be but a pretext for getting a spy 
into the fort. Col. Washington refused to admit the 
bearer of the summons. Capt. de Villiers then re- 
quested that an officer be sent to his quarters to par- 
ley ; giving his word of honor that no mischief should 
befall him , or unfixir advantage be taken of it. Where- 
upon, Capt. van Braam, the old Dutch fencing-mas- 
ter, being the only French interpreter conveniently 
at hand, was employed to go and bring in the terms 
of surrender. He soon came back ; but the terms 
were too dishonorable for any true soldier to think 
of accepting. He was sent again, but with no better 
result. The third time, Capt. de Villiers sent written 
articles of capitulation ; which, being in his own lan- 
suaofe, must needs be first translated before an 
answer could be returned. By the flickering light 
of one poor candle, which could hardly be kept 
burning for the pouring rain, the Dutch captain read 
the terms he had brought, while the rest stood round 
him, gathering what sense they could from the con- 
fused jumbling of bad French, and worse Enghsh 



FORT NECESSITY. 1 J5 

he was pleased to call a translation. After this, 
there followed a little more parleying between the 
hostile leaders ; when It was at last settled that the 
prisoners taken in the Jumonvllle affair should be set 
at liberty ; that the English should build no forts 
upon the disputed territories within a twelvemonth 
to come ; and that the garrison, after destroying the 
artillery and military stores, should be allowed to 
march out with all the honors of war, and pursue 
their way to the settlements, unmolested either by 
the French or their Indian allies. When we take 
into account the more than double strength of the 
enemy, the starving condition of the garrison (still 
further weakened as it was by the loss of twelve men 
killed and forty-three wounded) , and the slender hope 
of speedy succor from the settlements, these terms 
must be regarded as highly honorable to Col. Wash- 
ington ; and still more so when we add to this the 
fact, that the Half King and his other Indian allies 
had deserted him at the first approach of danger, un- 
der the pretext of finding some safer retreat for their 
wives and children. Whether they failed from choice, 
or hinderance to return, and take part In the action, 
can never now be known with certainty. 
' Thus the dreary night wore away ; and, when the 
dreary morning dawned, they destroyed the artillery 
and the military stores, preparatory to their setting 
forth on their retreat. As all the horses had been 
killed or lost the day before, they had no means of 



156 THE FARMER BOY. 

removing their heavy baggage : they therefore se- 
cured it as best they might, hoping to be able to send 
back for it from the settlements. Still in possession 
of their small-arms, they then marched out of the 
fort with all the honors of war, — fifes playing, drums 
beating, and colors flying. They had gone but a 
few yards from the fort, when a large body of Indians 
pounced with plundering hands upon the baggage. 
Seeing that the French could not or would not keep 
them back, Washington, to disappoint them of their 
booty, ordered his men to set fire to it, and destroy 
all they could not bring away upon their backs. 

This done, they once more took up then* line of 
march ; and a melancholy march it was. Between 
them and the nearest settlements, there lay seventy 
miles of steep and rugged mountain-roads, over which 
they must drag their weary and aching limbs before 
they could hope to find a little rest. Washington 
did all that a kind and thoughtful commander could 
to keep up the flagging spirits of his men ; sharing 
with them their every toil and privation, and all the 
while maintaining a firm and cheerftd demeanor. 
Reaching Wills's Creek, he there left them to enjoy 
the full abundance which they found awaiting them 
at that place ; and, in company with Capt. Mackay, 
repaired at once to Williamsbm'g to report the result 
of the campaign to Gov. Dinwiddie. 

A short time after, the terms of surrender were 
laid before the Virginia House of Burgesses, and 



FORT NECESSITY. 157 

received the entire approval of that wise body ; who, 
although the expedition had ended in defeat and 
failure, most cheerfully gave Col. Washington and 
his men a vote of thanks, in testimony of their having 
done their whole duty as good and brave and faith- 
ful soldiers. 



XIV. 

GEKERAL BRADDOCK. 

HAVING brought the campaign to an honora- 
ble if not successful end, Col. Washington 
threw up his commission, and left the service. Tliis 
had been his determination for some time past ; and 
he felt that he could do so now without laying his 
conduct open to censure or suspicion, having within 
liis own breast the happy assurance, that, in the dis- 
charge of his late trust, he had acted the part of a 
faithful soldier and true patriot, seeking only his 
country's good. The reasons that led him to take 
this step need not be repeated, as you will readily 
understand them, if you still bear in mind what I told 
you a short time since touching those questions of 
rank which caused the difficulty between him and 
Capt. Mackay. 

A visit to liis much-beloved mother was the first 
use he made of his leisure. The profound love and 
reverence that never failed to mark his conduct 
towards his mother were amonc: the most beautiful 
traits of his character. The management of the family 
estate, and the education of the younger childi-en, 

[158] 



GENERAL BRADDOCK. 159 

were concerns in wliich he ever took the liveliest 
interest ; and to make these labors light and easy to 
her by his aid or counsel was a pleasure to him 
indeed. Tliis grateM duty duly done, he once more 
sought the shelter of Mount Vernon, to whose com- 
forts he had been for so many months a stranger. 
The toils of a soldier's hfe were now exchanged for 
the peaceful labors of a husbandman. Nor did tliis 
change, to his well-ordered mind, bring with it any 
idle regrets ; for the quiet p\irsuits of a farmer's life 
yielded him, young, ardent, and adventiu-ous as he 
was, scarcely less delight than the profession of arms, 
and even more as he grew in years. 

The aiFair of the Great Meadows roused the mo- 
ther-country at last to a fidl sense of the danger that 
threatened her possessions in America. Accordingly, 
to regain what had been lost, money, and munitions 
of war, and a gallant little army fitted out in the 
completest style of that day, were sent over with all 
possible expedition, under the command of Major- 
Gen. Braddock. 

From the shrubby heights of Mount Yernon, 
Washington could look down, and behold the British 
ships-of-war as they moved slowly up the majestic 
Potomac, their decks thronged with officers and sol- 
diers dressed in showy uniform, their polished arms 
and accoutrements flashing back the cold, clear hght 
of the- February sun. From their encampment at 
Alexandria, a few miles distant, he could hear the 



IGO THE FARMER BOY. 

booming of tlieir morning and evening guns, as it 
came rolling over the hills and tlu-oiigh the woods, 
and shook his quiet home like a sullen summons to 
arms. Often, no longer able to keep down Ills youth- 
ful ardor, he would mount his horse, and, galloping 
up to the town, spend hours there in watcliing the 
different companies, as with the precision of clock- 
w^ork they went through their varied and difficult 
evolutions. At these sights and sounds, all the mar- 
tial spirit within him took fire again. 

To Gen. Braddock, who commanded all the forces 
in America, provincial as well as royal. Gov. Din- 
widdle and other Virginia notables spoke in the 
highest terms of the character of young Washington ; 
giving liim at the same time still fiirther particulars 
of the brave and soldierly conduct he had so sig- 
nally shown during the campaign of the previous 
year. They took pleasure, they said, in recommend- 
ing him as one whose skill and experience in Indian 
warfare, and thorough acquaintance with the wild 
country beyond the borders, were such as could be 
turned to the greatest advantage in the course of the 
following campaign. 

Desirous of securing services of such peculiar value, 
Braddock sent om* young Virginian a courteous invi- 
tation to join his staff; offering him the post of 
volunteer aide-de-camp, with the rank of colonel. 
Here was an opportunity of gratifying his taste for 
arms under one of the first generals of the day. 



GENERAL BRADDOCK. 161 

Could he do it without the sacrifice of honor or self- 
respect? Although he had left the service for the 
best of reasons, as you must bear in mind, yet there 
was nothing in these reasons to hinder him from serv- 
ing his country, not for pay, but as a generous 
volunteer, bearing his ovm expenses. Besides, such 
a post as this would place him altogether above the 
authority of any equal or inferior officer who mi^ht 
chance to hold a king's commission. Debating thus 
with himself, and urged on by his friends, he ac- 
cepted Braddock's invitation, and joined his staff as 
volunteer aide-de-camp. 

Now, would you know what an aide-de-camp is ? 
Wait, and you will find out for yourselves when we 
come to the battle of the Monongahela, where Brad- 
dock suffered his gallant Httle army to be cut to pieces 
by the French and Indians. 

When IVIrs. Washington heard that her son was 
on the eve of joining the new army, ftdl of a mother's 
fears, she hastened to entreat him not again to expose 
liimself to the dangers and trials of a soldier's life. 
Although the army was the only opening to distinction 
at that time in the Colonies, yet, to have him ever 
near her, she would rather have seen him quietly set- 
tled at liis beautiful homestead, as an unpretendino- 
farmer, than on the high road to every worldly honor 
at the risk of Hfe or virtue. Ever mindful of her 
slightest wishes, her son listened respectfully to all 
her objections, and said all he could to quiet her 



162 THE FARMER BOY. 

motherly fears : but, feeling that he owed his highest 
duty to his country, he was not to be turned from 
his steadfast purpose ; and, taking an affectionate leave 
of her, he set out to join his general at Fort Cumber- 
land. 

Fort Cumberland was situated on Wills's Creek, 
and had just been built by Braddock as a gathering 
point for the border ; and thither he had removed his 
whole army, with all his stores, and munitions of war. 
Upon further acquaintance, Wasliington found this 
old veteran a man of courteous though somewhat 
haughty manners, of a hasty and uneven temper, 
strict and rigid in the discipline of liis soldiers, much 
given to martial pomp and parade, and self-conceited 
and wilfiil to a degree that was sometimes scarcely 
bearable. He was, however, of a sociable and hospi- 
table tm*n ; often inviting his officers to dine with him, 
and entertaining them like princes. So keen a rehsh 
had he for the good things of the table, that he never 
travelled without his two cooks, who were said to 
have been so uncommonly skilful in their line of 
business, that they could take a pair of boots, and boil 
them down into a very respectable dish of soup, give 
them only the seasoning to finish it off with. The 
little folks, however, must be very cautious how they 
receive this story, as then- Uncle Juvinell will not 
undertake to vouch for the truth of it. 

The contractors — that is to say, the men who had 
been engaged to furnish the army with a certain 



GENEKAL BKADDOCK. 163 

number of horses, pack-saddles, and wagons, by a 
certain time, and for a certain consideration — had 
failed to be as good as their word, and had thereby 
seriously hindered the progTCSS of the campaign. As 
might have been expected, this was enough to throw 
such a man as Braddock into a towering passion ; 
and, to mend his humor, the governors of the different 
provinces were rR)t as ready and brisk to answer his 
call for men and supplies as he thought he had a 
right to expect. 

So he poured forth his vials of wrath upon whom- 
soever or whatsoever chanced to come uppermost. 
He, stormed at the contractors ; he railed at the gov- 
ernors, and sneered at the troops they sent him ; he 
abused the country in general, and scolded about the 
bad roads in particular. 

Washington, with his usual clearness of insight into 
character, soon saw, to his deep disappointment, that 
this was hardly the man to conduct a wilderness 
campaign to any thing like a successful end, how- 
ever brave the testy old veteran might be, and expert 
in the management of well-drilled regulars in the 
open and cultivated regions of the Old World. Of 
the same opinion was Dr. Frankhn, who, being at 
that time Postmaster-General of all the Colonies, 
came to Braddock's quarters at Fort Cumberland to 
make some arrangements for transporting the mail 
to and from the army during the progress of the expe- 
dition. I will read you his own lively account of 



164 THE FAEMEK EOF. 

this interview, as it will enable you to see more 
clearly those faults of Braddock's character that so 
soon after brought ruin on his own head, and disgrace 
i^pon English arms in America. 

" In conversation with him one day, he was giving me 
some account of his intended progress. ' After taking Fort 
Duquesne/ said he, ' I am to proceed to Niagara ; and, hav- 
ing taken that, to Frontenac, if the season will allow ; and 
I suppose it will, for Duquesne can hardly detain me above 
three or four days : and then I can see nothing that can 
obstruct my march to Niagara.' 

" Having before revolved in my mind the long line his 
army must make in their march by a very narrow road 
to be cut for them through the woods and bushes, and also 
what I had heard of a former defeat of fifteen hundred 
French who invaded the Illinois country, I had conceived 
some doubts and some fears for the event of the campaign ; 
but I ventured only to say, ' To be sure, sir, if you arrive 
well before Duquesne with these fine troops, so well pro- 
vided with artillery, the fort, though completely fortified 
and assisted with a very stroiig garrison, can probably make 
but a short resistance. The only danger I apprehend of 
obstruction to your march is from the ambuscades of the 
Indians, who, by constant practice, are dexterous in laying 
and executing them ; and the slender line, nearly four miles 
long, which your army must make, may expose it to be 
attacked by surprise on its flanks, and to be cut like thread 
into several pieces, which, from their distance, cannot come 
up in time to support one another.' He smiled at my 
ignorance, and replied, — 



GENERAJi BRADDOCK. 1G5 

" ' These savages may, indeed, be a formidable enemy to 
raw American militia ; but upon the king's regulai- and dis- 
ciplined troops, sir, it is impossible they should make an 
impression.' 

'* I was conscious of an impropriety in my disputing with 
a military man in matters of. his profession, and said no 
more." 

In the course of this intemew, Franklin chanced 
to express a regret that the army had not been landed 
in Penjisylvania, where, as every farmer kept liis own 
wacron and horses, better means would have been 
more readily found for transportmg the troops, with 
their hea\y guns and munitions of war, across the 
country and over the mountains. Quick to take a 
hint, Braddock made haste to request him, as a man 
of standing in liis colony, to furnish him. In the king's 
name, one himdi'ed and fifty wagons, and four horses 
to each wagon, besides a large number of pack-horses 
and pack-saddles. This, Franklin readily undertook 
to do ; and went about it with such diligence, that by 
the latter part of spring, even before the time set, he 
had fulfilled his promise to the last letter ; and Brad- 
dock had now the satisfaction of seeing liis army, 
after all these vexatious delays, in a condition to move 
forward. 

Meanwhile, AYashington was all attention to affairs 
in camp, and was daily gaining fresh Insight into the 
art of war, as understood and practised In the most 
civilized countries of the Old World. Every day the 



1G6 THE FARMER BOY. 

men were drilled, and passexl under review ; their arms 
and accontrenients carefiilly inspected by their offi- 
cers, to make sure that they were in perfect order, 
and ready for use at a moment's notice. Sentinels and 
gusirds were stationed in and about the camp, day and 
niiiht. 

So strict was the watch kept by tliis lynx-eyed old 
genei'al over the morals of liis men, that drunken- 
ness was punished with severe confinement ; and any 
one found guilty of theft was drummed out of his 
regiment, after receiving five hundred stripes on his 
bare back. Every Sunday, the soldiers were called 
together, under the colors of their separate regi- 
ments, to hear divine service performed by their 
chaplains. 

To lend variety to the scene, the Indians of the 
neighboring wilderness came flocking in to join their 
fortunes with the Enu'lish, or briuix information of the 
movements or designs of the French. Among these 
came his old friend and ally, White Thunder, keeper 
of the speech-belt ; and Silver Heels, a renowned 
warrior, so called, no doubt, from his being uncom- 
monly nimble of foot. Also, as we shall meet him 
again hereafter, should be mentioned another sachem, 
whose Indian name the little folks must excuse their 
Uncle Juvinell from giving them in fidl. By your 
leave, then, for the sake of brevity and convenience^ 
we will call him by the last two syllables of his 
name, Yaddi. From them Washington learned, much 



OENEIIAL BRADDOCK. 107 

to IjIh regret, that Km red brother, the Half King, 
hjid (lied a few month.s Ijcjfore ; having, as the con- 
jurorH or inedieine-men of lii.s tribe pretended, been 
bewitched by the Freneli for t}ie terribhi blow h(j 
had dealt them at the battle of Jumonville, whieli had 
filled them with Huch terror, that they dared not 
hope for Hafety in the wide earth till certain that he 
walked and ate and filept no more among living 
men. 

Although Braddock held these savage allies in high 
contempt, yet when Washington pointed out to him 
how much was to be gained by their friendship, and 
how much to be lost by their enmity, he was p(;r- 
Huaded, for that one time at least, to treat them with 
marked respect and distinction. 

To give them an overwhelming idea of the power 
and splendor of English arms, he received them with 
all the honors of war, — fifes playing, drums beating, 
and the regidars lowering their muskets as they passed 
on to the general's tent. Here Braddock received them 
in the midst of his officers, and made them a speech of 
welcome, in the course of which he told them of th(; 
deep sorrow felt by their great father, the King of 
England, for the death of his red brother, the Half 
King; and that, to console his red children in Ame- 
rica for so grievous a loss, as well as to reward them 
for their friendship and services to the English, he 
had sent them many rich and handsome presents, 
wliich they should receive before leaving the fort. 



168 THE FAKMER BOY. 

This speecli was answered by a dozen warriors in as 
many orations, which being very long and very flowery, 
and very httle to the point, bored their EngHsh Hsten- 
ers dreadfully. The peace-pipe smoked and the Big 
Talk ended, Braddock, by way of putting a cap on 
the grand occasion, ordered all the fifes to play, and 
drums to beat, and, in the midst of the music, all the 
guns in the fort to be fired at once. He then caused 
a bullock to be killed, and roasted whole, for the 
refreshment of his Indian guests. 

The Indians, in their turn, to show how sensible 
they were of the honor done them by this distin- 
guished reception, entertained the English by dancing 
their war-dances and singing their war-songs : by 
which you are to understand that they jumped and 
whu'led and capered about in a thousand outlandish 
antics till they grew limber and weak in the knees, 
and yelped and bellowed and howled till their bodies 
were almost empty of breath ; when, from very ex- 
haustion, they hushed their barbarous din, and night 
and slumber fell on the camp. In the daytime, these 
lords of the forest, tricked out in all their savage 
finery, their faces streaked with war-paint and their 
scalp-locks brave with gay bunches of feathers, would 
stalk about the fort, big with wonder over every 
thing they saw. Now and then, they would follow 
with admiring eyes the rapid and skilful movement 
of the red-coated regulars, as one or other of the 
regiments, like some huge machine, went through 



GENERAL BRADDOCK. 1G9 

their martial exercises ; or, standing on the ram- 
parts, they would watch with still keener zest and 
interest the young officers as they amused themselves 
by racing their horses outside the fort. 

As ill luck would have it, these warriors had 
brought with them their wives and children, among 
whom were many very pretty Indian girls, with 
plump, round forms, little hands and feet, and beady, 
roguish eyes'. As female society was not by any 
means one of the charms of life at Fort Cumberland, 
the coming of these wild beauties was hailed with 
the liveliest delight by the young English officers, 
who, the moment they laid eyes on them, fell to lov- 
ing them to desperation. First among these forest 
belles was one who went by the expressive name of 
Bright Lightning ; so called, no doubt, from being 
the favorite daughter of White Thunder. It being 
noised abroad that she was a savage princess of the 
very first blood, she, of course, at once became 
the centre of fashionable attraction, and the leading 
toast of all the young blades in camp. No sooner, 
however, did the warriors get wind of these gallant- 
ries, than they were quite beside themselves \^dth rage 
and jealousy, and straightway put an end to them ; 
making the erring fair ones pack off home, bag and 
baggage, sorely to their disappointment, as well as 
to that of the young British lions, who were quite 
inconsolable for their loss. 

This scandalous behavior on the part of the 

8 



170 THE FARMER BOY. 

English — of wliich, however, your Uncle Juvinell 
may have spoken more lightly than he ought — was, 
as you may well believe, very disgusting to Washing- 
ton, who was a young man of the purest thoughts 
and habits. As may be naturally supposed, it gave 
deep and lasting offence to the sachems ; and when 
to this is coupled the fact, that their wishes and 
opinions toucliing war-matters were never heeded 
or consulted, we cannot wonder that they one by one 
forsook the English, with all their warriors, and came 
no more. 

Foreseeing this, and well knoAving w^hat valuable 
service these people could render as scouts and spies, 
Washington had gone to Braddock, time and again, 
warnins: him to treat them with more regard to their 
peculiar whims and customs, if he did not wish to 
lose the advantages to be expected from their friend- 
sliip, or bring upon him the terrible consequences of 
their enmity. As this wise and timely advice came 
from a young provincial colonel, the wrong-headed 
old general treated it, of course, with high disdain, 
and to the last remained obstinate in the belief that 
he could march to the very heart of the continent 
without meeting an enemy who could withstand his 
well-drilled regulars and fine artillery. 

And thus, my dear children, did tliis rash and 
wilful man cast lightly away the golden opportunity, 
wherein, by a few kind words, or tokens of respect, 
he could have gained the lasting friendsliip of this 



GEXERAI. BRADDOCK. 171 

much-despised race, and thereby made them, in all 
human likelihood, the humble means of savin o- 
from early destruction the finest army, which, up to 
that time, had carried its banners to the Western 
World. 



XV. 



ROUGH WORK. 



AT last, all things were got in readiness ; and the 
gallant little army began its toilsome march 
through the forest, and over the mountains, and up 
and down the valleys. Beside the regulars, fourteen 
hundred strong, it consisted of two companies of 
hatchet-men, or carpenters, whose business it was to 
go on before, and open the road ; a small company 
of seamen, who had the care and management of the 
artillery ; six companies of rangers, some of whom 
were Pennsylvanians ; and two companies of light 
horse, which, being composed of young men taken 
from the very first families of Virginia, Braddock 
had chosen to be his body-guard : the whole number- 
ing two thousand, or thereabouts. 

Owing to the difficulty of dragging the loaded 
wagons and heavy guns over the steep and rocky 
roads, the march was slow and tedious in the extreme ; 
and what made it still more trying to Washing- 
ton's patience was to see so many wagons and pack- 
horses loaded down with the private baggage of 

[172] 



ROUGH WORK. 173 

the English officers, — such as fine clothing, table 
dainties, and a hundred little troublesome conve- 
niences, which they must needs lug about with them 
wherever they went. Weeks before they left Fort 
Cumberland, Washington had pointed out to Brad- 
dock the folly of attempting to cross that monstrous 
mountain barrier with a cumbrous train of wheel- 
carriages ; and expressed the opinion, that, for the 
present, they had better leave the bulk of their 
baggage and their heaviest artillery, and, trusting 
entirely to pack-horses for transporting what should 
be needed most, make their way at once to Fort Du- 
quesne while the garrison was yet too weak to offer 
any resistance. This prudent counsel, however, as 
usual, had failed to produce the least effect on the 
narrow and stubborn mind of Braddock ; but by 
the time he had dragged his unwieldy length over 
two or three mountains, and had made but a few 
miles in many days, it began to dawn on his mind by 
slow degrees , that a campaign in an American wilder- 
ness was a very different thing from what it was in 
the cultivated regions of Europe, where nearly every 
meadow, field, or wood, could tell of a Christian and 
civilized battle there fought, and where the fine roads 
and bridges made the march of an army a mere holi- 
day jaunt as compared to this rough service. The 
difficulties that beset him seeming to thicken around 
him at every step, he was at last so sorely put to 
it and perplexed as to be obliged to turn to the 



174 THE FARMER BOY. 

voiing proTinoial colonel for that advice wlilcli lie, in 
liis blind selt-contidence, had but a short while betbre 
disdained. 

Too well bred to seem surprised at this unbending 
of the haughty old general, although he really Avas 
not a little, AVashington readily, yet with all becom- 
ing modesty, did as he was desired, in a clear, brief, 
and soldierly manner. He gave it as his opinion, 
that their best plan would be to diA'ide the army into 
two parts, — the smaller division, under command 
of Col. Dunbar, to form the rear, and bring up the 
heavy guns and baoo'ao-e-wao'ons : the laro-er divi- 
slon, under the command of Braddock, to form the 
advance, and taking with it but two pieces of light 
artillery, and no more baggage than could be con- 
veniently carried on pack-horses,* push rapidly on to 
Fort Duquesne, and surprise the garrison before they 
could receive timely warning of their danger, or be 
re-enforced by the troops from Canada, which would 
have arrived ere then, had not the summer drouuht 
prevented. To some extent, this prudent advice was 
followed ; and, to give it the force of example, Wash- 
ino'ton reduced his bao^sras^e to a few little necessaries 
that he could easily carry in a small portmanteau 
strapped to liis back, and gave his fine charger to be 
used as a pack-horse. His brother provincial officers, 
accustomed as thev were to deahnsr with the diffi- 
culties and inconveniences of a backwoods life, in a 
ready, off-hand fashion, followed his example with 



bot;gii work. 175 

the greatfesrt willingneiis and gfxA-humfyr, yrAwixh^ 
istandmf^ thi«, hfjwever, there were stOl two hnndred 
pack-hor.^es ]fj2Ae(l with the private baggage of the 
EDgliih officers, who were unwiDing, eTeii in that 
hour of pressing need, to make this little sacn&ee oi 
their present comfort to the common good. So 
tender did they seem of their bodily ease, and 
go given np to the pleaeures of appetite, that Wash- 
ington began to have serious donbts of their fitness 
to endure the hardships of a roncfh campaign, and of 
their courage and firmness to face the dangers of the 
battle-field. 

One evening late, about this time, as the army 
lay encamped at the Little Meadows, there suddenly 
appeared among them, from the neighboring woods, 
a large party of hunters, all Pennsylvanians, dressed 
in the wild garb of Indians, and armed with hatchets, 
knives, and rifles. TTieir leader was a certain Capt. 
Jack, one of the greatest hunters of his day, and 
nearly as famous in the border tales of Pennsylva- 
nia as Daniel Boone in those of green Kentucky. 
When your Uncle Juvinell was quite a lad, he read 
the story of this strange man, in an old book, which 
pleased and interested him so much at the time, 
that he has never since forgotten it, and will now 
repeat it to you in the very words of the old chro- 
nicler : — 

"The 'Black Hunter,' the 'Black Rifle,' the 'Wild 
Hunter of Juniata,' Ls a white man. His history is this : 



176 THE FAEMER BOY. 

He entered the woods with a few enterprising companions, 
buih his cabin, cleared a little land, and amused himself 
with the pleasure of fishing and hunting. He felt happy ; 
for then he had not a care. But on an evening, when he 
returned from a day of sport, he found his cabin burnt, his 
wife and children murdered. From that moment he for- 
sakes civilized man, hunts out caves m which he lives, 
protects the frontier inhabitants from the Indians, and 
seizes every opportunity of revenge that offers. He lives 
the terror of the Indians, and the consolation of the whites. 
On one occasion, near Juniata, in the middle of a dark 
hight, a family were suddenly awaked from sleep by the 
report of a gun. They jumped from their huts ; and, by the 
glimmering light from, the chimney, saw an Indian fall to 
rise no more. The open door exposed to view the Wild 
Hunter. ' I have saved your lives ! ' he cried ; then turned, 
and was buried in the gloom of night." 

Bidding his leather-stockings to wait where they 
were till he came back, the Black Hunter strode on 
to the general's tent, and, without more ado than to 
enter, made known the object of his coming there, in 
a speech that smacked somewhat of the Indian style 
of oratory ; which I will give you, as nearly as I can, 
in his own words : — 

" Englishmen, the foe is on the watch. He lurks in the 
strongholds of the mountains. He hides in the shadows of 
the forest. He hovers over you like a hungry vulture 
ready to pounce upon its prey. He has made a boast that 
he will keep his eye upon you, from his look-outs on the 
hills, day and night, till you have walked into his snare, 



ROUGH WORK. 177 

when he will shoot down your gay red-birds like pigeons. 
Englishmen, dangers thicken round you at every step ; but 
in the pride of your strength you have blinded your eyes, 
so that you see them not. I have brought my hunters, 
who are brave and trusty men, to serve you as scouts and 
spies. In your front and in your rear, and on either hand, 
we will scour the woods, and beat the bushes, to stir up the 
lurking foe, that your gallant men fall not into his murder- 
ous ambuscade. To us the secret places of the wilderness 
are as an open book ; in its depths we have made our 
homes this many a year : there we can find both food and 
shelter. We ask no pay, and our rifles are all our own." 

To this noble and disinterested offer, Braddock 
returned a cold and haughty answer. 

"There is time enough," said he, "for making 
such arrangements ; and I have experienced troops 
on whom I can rely." 

Stung to the quick by tliis uncivil and ungenerous 
treatment, the Black Hunter, without another word, 
turned, and, with a kindling eye and proud step, left 
the tent. When he told his follow^ers of the scornful 
manner in which the English general had treated 
their leader, and rejected their offer of service, they 
staid not, but, with angry and indignant mien, filed 
out of the camp, and, plunging once more into the 
wilderness, left the devoted little army to march on 
to that destruction to which its ill-starred commander 
seemed so fatally bent on leading it. " The contemp- 
tuous indifference which always marked the demeanor 

8* 



178 THE FAEMER BOY. 

of Braddock towards these rude but brave and trusty- 
warriors of the woods was very oifensive to Wash- 
ington ; the more, as he knew, that, when it came 
to be put to the test, these men, unskilled though 
they were in the modes of ci\alized warfare, would 
be found far better fitted to cope with the cunning 
and stealthy enemy they had then to deal with, than 
those well-dressed, well-armed, well-di*illed, but un- 
wieldy regulars. 

After having rested a few days at the Little Mea- 
dows, the advanced division of the army once more 
took up the line of inarch ; but, to Washington's 
disappointment, made scarcely better speed than 
before, although lightened of nearly all of the heavy- 
baggage. " I found," wrote he a short time after, 
"that, instead of pushing on with \agor, we were 
halting to level every mole-hill, and erect bridges 
over every brook ; by which means we were some- 
times four days in getting twelve miles." Slowly 
the long and straggling lines held on their weary- 
way, now scrambling over some rugged steep, now 
winchng along some narrow defile, till at length the 
silence of that gloomy vale — the Shades of Death — 
was again broken by the shouts and uproar of a 
marching army. 

For several days, Washington had been suffering 
much from fever, attended with a racking headache, 
which had obliged him to travel in a covered wagon. 
By the time they reached the great crossings of the 



ROUGH WORK. 179 

Youglilogeny, his illness had so increased, that Dr. 
Craik, liis good friend and physician, declared it 
would be almost certain death for him. to travel fur- 
ther ; at the same time advising him to stay where 
he was until his fever should somewhat abate its 
violence, when he could come up with Dunbar's rear 
division. His brother officers also, and even his old 
general, kindly urged him to give up all thought of 
going on for the present ; while, to render his disap- 
pointment more bearable, some of them promised to 
keep him informed, by writing, of every thing note- 
worthy wliich should happen in the course of their 
march. Seeing there was no help for it, he suffered 
himself to be left behind : but it was with a sad and 
heavy heart that he saw them pass on without him ; 
and when they had vanished, one by one, in the 
shadows of the neiorhborino' wilds, and the o-leamins" 
of their arms could no lono;er be seen throuo;h the 
openings of the trees and bushes, he turned with a 
sigh, and said to the men whom Braddock had left 
to nurse and guard him, "I would not for five hun- 
dred pounds miss being at the taking of Fort Du- 
quesne." Here he lay for ten days ; his fever, no 
doubt, much aggravated by his impatience to rejoin 
his comrades, and the fear lest he should not be well 
in time to share with them the dano;ers and honors 
of the comino; contest. 

Meanwhile, Braddock pursued his slow and tedious 
march, and in a few days had passed the Great 



180 THE FARMER BOY. 

Meadows, where young Washington, the year before, 
as you must well remember, had learned his first 
lessons in the rude art of war. A few miles beyond 
this, he came to a deserted Indian camp, on the top 
of a rocky hill, wdiere, to judge from the number of 
wigwams, at least one hundred and seventy warriors 
must have lodo-ed. The fires w^ere still burnino: ; 
which showed but too plainly that the stealthy foe 
was on the watch, and not far distant. Some of 
the trees hard by had been stripped of their bark ; 
and on their white, sappy trunks were to be seen, 
in the rude picture-w^riting of the Indians, savage 
taunts and threats of veno^eance meant for the Enof- 
lish ; while intermixed with these were bullying 
boasts and blackguard slang, written in the French 
language, as if to force on the notice of those who 
were to read them the fact, that there were white as 
well as red men lurking near. 

It had almost slipped my mind to tell you, that 
Braddock, moved perhaps by the ad^dce of Wash- 
ington, had, before setting out from Fort Cumber- 
land, employed a small party of Indians, with their 
sachem Yadi at their head, to serve as guides and 
spies during the campaign. A few days after passing 
the deserted camp on the rock, four or five soldiers, 
straggling too far in the rear, were suddenly waylaid 
by the prowling foe, and all murdered and scalped 
on the spot. 

To avenge the death of their comrades, a squad of 



ROUGH WORK. 181 

regulars went out in quest of the enemy, and soon 
came in sight of a small party of Indians, who held 
up the boughs of trees before them, and stood their 
riiies on the ground, as a sign that they Avere friends. 
Xot understanding this, however, and the distance 
l)eing too great for them to make out who they were, 
the blundering regulars fired, and one of the party 
fell dead on the spot, — a youthful warrior, who 
proved to be the son of the sachem Yadi. When 
Braddock heard of this melancholy accident, he was 
deeply grieved. He forthwith sent for the bereaved 
father, and, ^ his praise be it ev'er recorded, endea- 
vored, by kind words and liberal presents, to console 
him, and make some little amends for his heavy loss ; 
and, as a still further token of his regard, he ordered 
the hapless youth to be buried with all the honors of 
war. The body, borne on a bier, was followed by the 
officers, two and two ; while the soldiers, drawn up 
in two lines, with the grave between them, stood 
facing each other, with the points of their muskets 
turned downward, and their chins resting in the hol- 
low of the breeches. When the body was lowered, 
they fired three volleys over the grave, and left the 
young warrior to his long sleep on the hillside, with 
his bright hatchet and trusty rifle beside him. All 
this was very soothing to the sorrow and gratifying 
to the fatherly pride of the old sachem, and made 
him ever after a loving friend and faithful ally of the 
English. I have told you this little story to show 



182 THE FARMER BOY. 

you, that this testy and obstinate old general, with 
all his faults, was far from being the hard, unfeel- 
ino- man that he sometimes seemed ; and also as ff 
tribute that every historian should pay to the memory 
of one whose misfortune it has been to be blamed so 
much, and pitied so little. 

By this time, Washington had so far regained his 
strength as to admit of his being borne along in a 
covered wagon ; and, setting out accordingly, in five 
days came up with the advance division, where It lay 
encamped In a beautiful spot about two miles from 
the Monongahela, and fifteen miles fi«om Fort Du- 
quesne. Here he was joyfully welcomed by both 
officers and men, with whom his generosity, and frank, 
manly bearing, had made him a great favorite. Shortly 
after his arrival, Mr Gist and two Indian scouts, who 
had been sent out to reconnoitre or spy out the 
enemy, came back with the cheering tidings, that the 
re-enforcements had not yet come down from Canada, 
and that the garrison in the fort was at present too 
weak to stand a single hour's siege. But what gave 
him a little uneasiness was a lofty column of smoke, 
rising from a deep and densely wooded hollow, where 
they were quite sure the watchful enemy was lurking, 
and hatchino; some mischief for the Eno;lIsh. 

Now, the fort and the camp lay on the same side 
of the river ; and the most direct route between them 
was by a narrow mountain pass, rising abruptly from 
the water's edge on the left, and, on the right, shut 



ROUGH WORK. 183 

lu by a steep and lofty hill, whose stony sides were 
overgrown with laurel and stunted cedars and pines. 
As it was altogether out of the question to drag their 
wagons and artillery along this pass, it was resolved 
to cross the river, first at a point just over against 
the camp, and then, moving down along the opposite 
bank, recross it at another point five miles below ; 
at both of which places the fords were shallow, and 
the banks not high. 

At last, the 9th of July, 1755, — a day ever to be 
remembered in American annals, — began to dawn. 
Long before its first red light had streaked the east, 
a hum in the camp told that the little army was, 
even at that hour, all astir, and big with the bustle 
of preparation. Officers and men were in the high- 
est hopes, and looked forward with confidence to the 
coming evening, when they were to plant their vic- 
torious banners on the ramparts of Fort Duquesne. 
Although they had marched thus far without serious 
molestation, yet Col. Washington's fears of an am- 
buscade were not a whit diminished ; for he felt quite 
certain that they should never reach the French fort 
without an attempt being made to surprise, or drive 
them back. Full of these apprehensions, he went 
to Gen. Braddock, and, pointing out to lilm the 
danger hanging over them, urged him by all means 
to send out the Virginia rangers to scour the woods 
and thickets, front and flank, and beat up the enemy, 
should any chance to be lurking near with the design 



184 THE FARMER BOY. 

of drawing them Into an ambuscade. No advice, as 
it afterwards turned out, could have been more timely : 
but, coming from a raw provincial colonel, Braddock' 
cast it aside with angry impatience ; and when the 
line of march was formed, as if to show in what 
light esteem he held it, he ordered the rangers to the 
rear, to guard the baggage. Before daybreak, a large 
party of pioneers, or road-cutters, with a small guard 
of regulars, numbering in all about three hundred, 
had gone on before to open a passage for the army 
through the woods, and make the fords more passable 
by levelling the banks. 

The midsummer sun was shooting its first beams, 
level and red, among the Alleghany hills, when the 
little army, having crossed the Monongahela at the 
upper ford, stood on its southern bank, forming in 
line of march. By order of their general, officers 
and men had scoured and polished their arms and 
accoutrements the night before ; and now appeared in 
full uniform, as if some grand military parade were 
to be the programme of the day. The whole line 
was soon moving slowly forward, with fifes playing, 
drums beating, and colors flying ; the regulars keep- 
ing step the while to the " Grenadier's March." In 
the clear and tranquil depths of the river, as they 
moved along Its shady banks, could be seen, as in a 
mirror, the long array of leather-shirted rangers and 
red-coated regulars, with their sun-lit arms and 
prancing steeds, and bright banners that floated in the 



ROUGH WORK. 185 

moriiing breeze. This brilliant spectacle, so well set 
oiF by the smiling river in front and the frowning 
woods beyoncT, formed a picture that ever lived in the 
memory of Washington ; and in after-years he used 
often to say, that, as it then appeared to liim, he 
thought he had never seen any tiling so beautiful. In 
the enthusiasm of the moment, he forgot his late 
illness, the still enfeebled condition of liis body, — 
all, save the glory of serving his countiy ; and, 
mounting his horse, he joined his brother-aides in 
their attendance on their general, else far more fatal 
must have been the end of that bloody day. 



XVI. 

braddock's defeat. 

IN my account of tliis battle, as well as all the 
others that will come thundering In upon us 
from time to time In the course of our story, I have 
thought It would suit our purpose best to touch 
upon those facts only that are Hkehest to leave the 
most lasting pictures of such events on your minds ; 
using the while no more words than may actually 
be needed to give clearness and completeness to the 
same. And now, Daniel, my young Herodotus, and 
Ned, my young Hannibal, bring In another Christ- 
mas log, that we may have a more cheerful blaze ; 
for our story will be doleful enough for the next 
half-hour, without these goblin shadows dodging and 
flittino: about the room to make It more so. 

At mid-day, Braddock's army came to the lower 
ford, where a halt was called to allow of a few 
minutes' rest. Far In front, across the river, the 
ringing of a hundred axes, followed at short Inter- 
vals by the crash of falling trees, could be distinctly 
heard ; telling that the pioneers were there, working 
might and main to clear a passage for those behind. 

[186] 



br.\ddock's defeat. 187 

The road just opened, after leaving the ford, ran 
across a hea\ily wooded bottom that skirted the river ; 
and thence, for a few hundi'ed yards, up a rocky 
slope to the foot of a high range of liills, about a 
mile distant, where it entered a narrow, bushy defile, 
and went no further. The country, for miles and 
miles around, as far as the eye could reach, was 
thickly wooded, save the rocky slope just mentioned, 
and the neighboring ravines, which were overgrown 
with long, coarse grass and whortleberry-bushes, 
so high as to sweep the horses' bellies ; with here 
and there a few scattering trees of some size. It 
was the very place, of all others, that the wily 
Indian would be most likely to choose for his ambus- 
cade. 

By two o'clock, the whole army had regained the 
northern bank of the river. They were now within 
ten miles of Fort Duquesne, and a lucky end to 
then- present campaign seemed near at hand. In a 
few minutes, artillery and baggage, foot and horse, 
regulars and rangers, formed into separate and dis- 
tinct columns, stood ready to move as soon as the 
word should be given. Just at the moment, how- 
ever, when they were listening to hear the order, 
"Forward, march!" drop from their general's lips, 
they were startled by a sudden and heavy firing 
among the hills, which put a sudden stop to the 
hundred axes, and told but too plainly that the road- 
cutters and their guard of regulars had been drawn 



188 THE FARMER BOY. 

into an ambuscade. Washington knew at once, and 
too well, that the evil he dreaded from the beo^in- 
ing, had, on the very eve of success, come upon 
them ; and with it also came the painful reflection, 
that it would never have so befallen them, had the 
rangers been suiFered to scour the woods, and beat up 
the enemy, as had been recommended by him but a 
few hours before. Braddock forthwith ordered two 
companies to hurry on to the relief of the pio- 
neers ; and, at his bidding, one of his aides spurred 
forward to learn further of the matter, and bring liim 
word. The firing grew heavier and heavier, and 
seemed to be coming nearer and nearer. The lonely 
hills and woods around rang with the whoops and 
yells of the unseen savages. Not able to restrain 
his impatience till liis aide came back, Braddock 
ordered his main division to come up at double-quick ; 
and, taking with him his two remaining aides and a 
small guard of light-horse, galloped up to the scene 
of action. Here what was his rage and mortifica- 
tion to find his doughty regulars, of whom he had 
boasted so much, changed, as it were in the whistling 
of a bullet, into a mere disorderly rabble of red- 
coats, — confused, bewildered, to a degree that he 
could never have dreamed possible ! Crowded and 
huddled together in the narrow road, he saw them 
dropping down under the Indian bullets, helpless as 
a herd of frightened deer beset by a band of unseen 
hunters. 



braddock's defeat. 189 

By this time, the Indians, still hid from view by 
the grass and bushes, had stretched their lines along 
either side of the road, from the hollows among 
the hills to some distance down the rocky slope, and 
were pouring in a murderous fire upon the affright- 
ed English ; yelling and whooping the while hke a 
leo-ion of devils at some infernal frolic. Two bayo- 
net charges had been made to drive them from their 
hiding-places, but in vain. The regulars, notwith- 
standing their officers' orders to the contrary, kept up 
a hurried but random firing, which had little or no 
effect upon the enemy, as nothing could be seen of 
liim but the puffs of rifle-smoke that rose and hovered 
in little blue clouds over his place of ambush. The 
Enghsh, it is said, were less appalled by the whis- 
tling bullets of the unseen savages than by their 
unearthly yells, — a sound that none of them had 
ever heard before, and many a poor fellow of them 
never heard again. The Indian war-whoop has been 
described as a sound so wild and terrible, that, when 
once heard in battle, it rings in the listener's ears for 
weeks thereafter, and is never forgotten even to his 
dying day. 

But the Enghsh officers, on the contrary, behaved 
themselves with a gallantry that filled Washington 
with astonishment and admiration. Heretofore he 
had seen them only in camp or on the line of march, 
where their habits of ease and self-indulgence had led 
him to doubt their having the courage and firmHCSs 



190 TIIE FARRIER BOY. 

to face, \^dthout shrinlvlng, danger in such appalling 
forms. Unmindful of the bullets that whistled con- 
tinually about their heads, they galloped up and 
down the broken and bleeding lines, in the vain en- 
deavor to rally their men, and bring them again to 
somethins: like order. Mounted on fine horses, and 
di'essed in rich uniforms, they offered a tempting 
mark to the unseen rifles that were levelled at them 
from beliind every tree and bush, and tuft of grass ; 
and, ere the work of death was finished, many a gal- 
lant steed, with dangling reins and bloody saddle, 
dashed riderless about the field. And, as if this were 
not enough, many of them must needs fall victims to 
the unsoldierly conduct of their own men, who, for- 
getfid of all discipline, and quite beside themselves 
with terror and bewilderment, loaded their pieces 
hurriedly, and fired them off at random, killing friends 
as well as foes. Nor did this most shameful part of 
the bloody scene end here : many of the Virginia 
rangers, who had already taken to the trees and 
bushes, and were doing good service by fighting the 
Indians in their own fashion, were shot down by 
the blunderino^ re<2rulars, who fired into the woods 
wherever they saw a puff of smoke, unable to dis- 
tinguish whether it rose from a red or a white man's 
rifle. Upon these brave rangers the brunt of the 
battle fell ; and indeed, had it not been for their 
firmness and presence of mind, their skill and address 
in the arts and strategems of Indian warfare, which 



beaddock's defeat. 191 

enabled them for a time to hold the enemy in check, 
hardly a remnant of Braddock's fine army would 
have survived to behold the going-down of that sum- 
mer's sun. 

At the very commencement of the battle, a small 
party of warriors, cheered on by a French officer in 
a fancifully trimmed hunting-shirt, had leaped out 
from their covert into the road, with the view, it 
seemed, of cutting off those in front from the assist- 
ance of their comrades in the rear ; but the regulars, 
who guarded the road-cutters, having discharged a 
well-aimed volley of musketry into their very faces, 
they had turned, and fled with even more haste than 
they had come, leaving behind them several of their 
number dead on the spot, and among these their dash- 
ing French leader. After that, they had taken care 
to keep close under cover of the grass and bushes. 
Now and then, however, a tall brave, grim and hide- 
ous with war-paint, with a yell of defiance would 
leap from his ambush, and, darting into the road, 
tomahawk and scalp a wounded officer just fallen ; 
then vanish again as suddenly as if the earth had 
opened to swallow him up. 

All this while. Col. Washington had borne himself 
with a firmness, courage, and presence of mind, that 
would have done honor to a forty-years' veteran. 
His two brother aides-de-camp having been wounded 
early in the engagement, the whole duty of carrying 
the general's orders had fallen on him ; and nobly 



192 THE FARMER BOY. 

did he that day discharge it. Although brave men 
were falling thick and fast on every side, yet he 
shrank from no exposure, however perilous, did his 
duty but lead liim there. Mounted on horseback, 
liis tall and stately form was to be seen in every part 
of the field, the mark of a hundred rifles, whose 
deadly muzzles were pointed at him wliithersoever he 
went. Two horses were shot dead under him, and 
his coat was pierced with bullets ; but he seemed to 
bear about him a charmed life, and went unharmed. 
His danger was so great, that his friend Dr. Craik, 
who watched his movements with anxious interest, 
looked every moment to see him fall headlong to the 
ground ; and that he came oflf alive seemed to him a 
miracle. Washington himself, with that piety which 
ever marked his character, laid his deliverance from 
the perils of that fatal day to the overruling care of 
a kind and watchful Providence. 

Although brought thus suddenly face to face with 
new and untried dangers, Braddock bore himself 
throughout the day like the valiant man that he 
really was. The bullets and yells of the invisible foe 
he scarcely noticed, as he galloped hither and thither 
about the field, giving his orders through a speaking- 
trumpet, whose brazen voice rose loud and hoarse 
above the din of battle. Under the mistaken notion 
that a savage enemy, hid in a thicket, was to be 
dealt with as a civilized one in an open plain, he 
sought to recover his lost ground by forming his men 



BRADDOCKS DEFEAT. 193 

into companies and battalions ; which, however, he 
had no sooner done, than they were mowed down by 
the murderous fire from the ambush, that had never 
ceased. "My soldiers," said he, "would fight, could 
they but see their enemy ; but it is vain to shoot at 
trees and bushes." Whereupon Washington urgently 
besouffht him to let his resrulars fight the Indians in 
their own fashion, which would the better enable 
them to pick off the lurking foe with less danger to 
their own safety. But Braddock's only answer to this 
was a sneer ; and some of his regulars, who were 
already acting upon the suggestion, he angrily ordered 
back into the ranks, calling them cowards, and even 
striking them with the flat of his sword. He then 
caused the colors of the two regiments to be advanced 
in different parts of the field, that the soldiers might 
rally around their separate standards. It was all in 
vain. In his excitement, he cheered, he entreated, 
he swore, he stormed : it was only a waste of breath ; 
for the poor fellows were too disheartened and broken, 
too overcome by mortal fear, to rally again. 

Col. Washington, seeing that the day was on the 
point of being lost, galloped down to the rear to see 
if nothing could be done with the artillery ; but he 
found the gimners in a most disorderly plight, 
benumbed with terror, and utterly unable to manage 
their guns. What Washington did on this occasion, 
I had better teU you in the words of an old Penn- 
sylvania soldier, who was there at the time, and 



194 THE FARMER BOY. 

survived the battle for half a hundred years or 
more ; and used often, for the entertainment of your 
Uncle Juvinell and other little boys, to fight his 
battles over again as he sat smoking in liis chimney 
comer. 

" I saw Col. Washington," he would say, " spring from . 
his panting horse, and seize a brass field-piece as if it had 
been a stick. His look was terrible. He put his right 
hand on the muzzle, his left hand on the breech ; he pulled 
with this, he pushed with that, and wheeled it round, as if 
it had been a plaything : it furrowed the ground like a 
ploughshare. He tore the sheet-lead from the touch-hole ; 
then the powder-monkey rushed up with the fire, when 
the cannon went off, making the bark fly from the trees, 
and many an Indian send up his last yell and bite the 
dust." 

This, however, gave the savages but a momentary 
check, as he could not follow it up ; there being no 
one by ready and willing to lend him a helping hand. 
The Virginia rangers and other provincial troops, 
who had done the only good fighting of the day, 
were thinned out to one-fourth their number ; and the 
few that remained were too weary and faint to hold 
out loncjer ao^ainst such fearful odds. Between the 
well-aimed firing of the enemy and the random 
shooting of the regulars, the slaughter of the English 
officers had been frightful : out of the eighty-six who 
went into the battle, only twenty-four came oflf 



beaddock's defeat. 195 

unhurt. Gen. Braddock had five horses killed under 
him. By this time, he had given up all hope of 
regaining the day ; and, galling as it must have been 
to his proud spirit, was at last forced to think of 
retreating as their only chance of safety. Just as he 
was on the point, however, of giving orders to this 
eiFect, a bullet — said by some to have been a 
random shot from one of his own soldiers — passed 
through his arm, and, lodging itself in his lungs, 
brought liim to the ground, mortally wounded. His 
officers placed him in a tumbrel, or pioneer's cart, 
and bore him from the field, where, in his despair, he 
prayed them to leave him to die. 

Seeing their leader fall, a fresh panic seized the 
army. And now followed a wild and disorderly rout, 
the like of wliich was never known before, and has 
never since been known, in our border-wars. The 
soldiers in front fell back on those in the centre ; 
those in the centre fell back on those in the rear : 
till foot and horse, artillery and baggage, were 
jammed and jumbled together, making a scene of 
dismay and confusion it would be vain for me to 
attempt to describe. To add wings to their speed, 
the Indians, with a long, loud yell of fiendish 
triumph, now rushed from their ambush, and, bran- 
dishing aloft their murderous tomahawks, began to 
press hard on the heels of the terrified fugitives. 
The better to elude their savage pursuers, the regu- 
lars threw away their arms, the gunners abandoned 



196 THE FARMER BOY. 

their guns, and the teamsters cut their horses from 
the traces, and, mounting them, fled, never halting 
until they reached Col. Dunbar's camp, — a gallop of 
forty miles. A few fell under the tomahawk before 
the farther bank of the river could be gained. Here, 
luckily for the survivors, the Indians gave over the 
pursuit, in their eagerness to plunder the slain, and 
gather what else of booty might be found on the 
field. 

Thus ended this bloody battle, or rather slaughter ; 
for in truth it could be called nothing else. Of the 
sixteen hundred valiant men who had that morninG:, 
in all the bright array of gleaming arms and waving 
banners, marched along the banks of that beautifid 
river, nearly one-half, ere the sun went down, had 
fallen on Braddock's Hill. What made this disaster 
more shameful still was the weakness of the enemy's 
force, which did not exceed eight hundred, of whom 
only a fourth were French ; and, of all this number, 
scarcely forty fell in the fight. 

Col. Washington was now ordered to ride back 
with all speed to Dunbar's camp, to fetch horses, 
wagons, and hospital-stores for the relief of the 
wounded. Although still quite weak from his ten 
days' fever, which indeed had left him with no more 
strength than should have sufficed for the fatigues of - 
that trying day, yet he set out on the instant, and, 
taking with him a guard of grenadiers, travelled the 
livelong night. What with those terrible sights and 



^'^' BR ADDOCK'S DEFEAT. 197 

sounds still ringing in his ears, and flasliing before his 
eyes ; what with the thought of the many dead and 
dying that lay on the lonely hillside far behind, with 
their ghastly upturned faces, more ghastly still in the 
light of the moon ; and what with the bitter, bitter 
reflection, that all this would never have been but for 
the pride and folly of a single man, — that ride 
through the dark and silent woods must have been a 
melancholy one indeed. He pushed on, without 
leaving the saddle, till late in the afternoon of the 
following day, when he reached Dunbar's camp ; and 
gathering together, without loss of time, the neces- 
saries for which he had been sent, started on his 
return that same night, scarcely allowing himself and 
men an hour for food and rest. Early next morn- 
ing, he met the main division at Mr. Gist's plantation, 
whither they had dragged their shattered lines the 
evening before. From thence they all went on 
together to the Great Meadows, where they arrived 
that same day, and halted. 

For the four and twenty hours following the,battle, 
Braddock had remained sad and silent ; never speaking 
except to say, " Who would have thought it ? " The 
second day, he seemed more cheerful ; for he said, 
" We shall better know how to deal with them another 
time." He spoke in high praise of the skill and 
courage shown by the Virginia rangers and other pro- 
vincial troops during the whole engagement. He now 
saw, but too late, and to his deep regret, that he had 



198 THE FARMER BOY. 

not given these rough and hardy men half the credit 
due them as good soldiers ; and also that he had 
made a fatal mistake in underratino: the strenirth, 
skill, and address of the enemy he had been sent 
there to subdue. To Wasliing-ton he made a frank 
and manly apology for the contempt and impatience 
with which he had so often treated his pmdent and 
well-timed counsel. As if wishinc: to make still 
further amends for tliis, he bequeathed to him liis 
faithful negro servant, Bishop, and liis fine white 
charger, both of whom had helped to carry their 
wounded master from the field. On the fourth day 
after the battle, he died; having been kindly and 
tenderly cared for by Wasliington and his other 
surviving officers. 

They dug him a grave by the roadside, not a 
stone's-throw from Fort Necessity, in the depths of 
that lonely wilderness ; and there, before the summer 
morn had dawned, they buried him. In the absence 
of the chaplain, the funeral service was read by 
Washington, in a low and solemn voice, by the dim 
and flickering light of a torch. Fearing lest the 
enemy might be lurking near, and, spjang out the 
spot, commit some outrage on his remains, they 
fired not a farewell shot over the grave of their 
unfortunate general, — that last tribute of respect to 
a departed soldier, and one he had himself paid, but a 
short time before, to a nameless Indian warrior. 
So there they laid him ; and, to this day, the great 



BR.VDDOCKS DEFEAT. 199 

highway leading from Cumberland to Pittsburg goes 
by the name of Braddock's Road. 

I would, my dear children, have you dwell on 
these glimpses of a more manly and generous nature 
that brightened the closing hours of Braddock's life ; 
because it is but Christian and just that we should be 
willing to honor virtue in whomsoever it may 
be found. With all his self-conceit and obstinacy, 
he had a kindly heart, and was a brave man ; and 
had it been his lot to deal with a civilized enemy, 
instead of a savage one, he would, no doubt, have 
proved himself a skilful general. And we should 
not deal too harshly with the memory of a man, 
whose faults, however great they may have been, were 
more than atoned, for by the inglorious death he died, 
and by " a name ever coupled with defeat." 



XVII. 

EXPLANATIONS. 

HERE, again, Uncle Juvinell paused in his story, 
and looked beamingly around on his little audi- 
tors. They were all sitting with their eyes bent 
earnestly on the burning logs, thinldng deeply, no 
doubt, and looking as sober as tombstones in the light 
of a spring morning. 

All on a sudden, Willie leaped from his chair, and 
gave a shrill Indian war-whoop, that threw the whole 
bevy into a terrible panic ; making some of the 
smaller fry scream outright, and even Uncle Juvi-^ 
nell to blink a little. " There," said the youngster, 
*^ is sometliing to ring in your ears for weeks hereaf- 
ter, and never to be forgotten even to your dying day. 
I heard it the other night at the Indian circus, and 
have been practising it myself ever since. I fancy it 
must be a pretty fair sample of the genuine tiling, or 
it wouldn't have scared you all up as it did." Where- 
upon Uncle Juvinell, frowning over his spectacles 
with his brows, and laughing behind them with his 
eyes, bade the young blood to pack himself into his 
chair again, and be civil ; at the same time threaten- 

[200] 



EXPLANATIONS. 201 

ing to put him on a water-gruel diet, to bring his 
surpkis spirits within reasonable bounds. Then all 
the Httle folks laughed, not so much at what their 
uncle had said, as to make believe they had not been 
frightened in the least ; in which Willie, the cunning 
rogue, joined, that, under cover of the general merri- 
ment, he might snicker a little to himself at his own 
smartness. 

"And now, my dear children," continued the good 
man, " hand me the notes you have written down, 
that I may see what it is you would have me explain." 

" In five minutes' time after you began," said rattle- 
brained Willie, " I became so much interested in the 
story, that I quite forgot all about the notes, till it 
was too late to begin ; but I was thinking all along, 
that I should like to understand more clearly the dif- 
ference between a province and a colony, and" — 

"Indeed, uncle," broke in Dannie, "you made 
every thing so clear and plain as you went along, 
that I, for one, didn't feel the need of writing down a 
single note." 

"Then, Dannie," said his uncle, "that being the 
case, you can perhaps enlighten your cousin Willie 
as to the difference between a colony and a province." 

Had his uncle called upon him to give the differ- 
ence between Goo; and Mao-os;, Daniel would have 
made the venture. So he promptly answered, — 

"A province is a country, and a colony is the 
people of it." 



202 THE FARIVIER BOY. 

Uncle Juvinell would have laughed outright at this 
answer ; but he knew it would mortify the young 
historian: so he only smiled, and said, — 

"That will do pretty well, Dannie, as far as it 
goes ; but it does not cover more than an acre of the 
ground. Now, a colony, you must know, Willie, 
is a settlement made by a country — called, in such 
cases, the mother-country — in some foreign region at 
a distance from it, but belonging to it; as, for ex- 
ample, the Enghsh colonies in America, which are 
separated from the mother-country, England, by the 
great Atlantic Ocean. A pro^dnce, on the other 
hand, is a similar extent of foreign territory, belong- 
ing to a nation or a kingdom, either by conquest or 
purchase or settlement ; and it may also be a divi- 
sion or district of the kingdom or nation itself. Thus, 
you see, a foreign region, settled and owned by the 
mother-country, may, with nearly equal propriety, 
be called either a colony or a province ; wliile one 
that belongs to a nation or a kingdom by conquest 
or purchase is a province, and nothing else. Thus, 
for example, Canada is a province of Great Britain, 
won from the French by conquest, as you will learn 
to-morrow evening. From this you may see, that 
although a province may, yet a colony can no more 
exist within the boundaries of a mother-country, than 
can a man live at home and abroad at one and the 
same time." 

The other children were then called on to produce 



EXPLANATIONS. 203 

their notes. Laura said, that, after she had written 
two or three, she found she was losing more than she 
was gaining ; for, when she stopped to take down 
any item she wished to remember, she did not 
hear what came right after. Ellen chimed in with 
the same ; and Ned said he was not yet out of his 
pot-hooks, and couldn't write ; but that he was 
thinking all the time of getting Willie or Dannie to 
tell him all about it after they went to bed. So, 
what with this excuse, and that, and the other, 
not a single note was forthcoming, except a few 
that Master Charlie, the knowing young gentleman, 
had written on a very large slate, in letters quite of 
his own inventing, which he now laid before his 
uncle. To set oiF his penmanship to the best advan- 
tage, and couple the ornamental with the useful, he 
had drawn just above it a picture of Gen. Braddock, 
mounted on his dashing wliite charger, and waving 
aloft a sword of monstrous length. One unac- 
quainted with the subject, however, would sooner 
have taken it for a big baboon, geared up in a cocked 
hat and high military boots, with a mowing-scythe 
In his hand, and astraddle of a rearing donkey 
heavily coated with feathers instead of hair. The 
old gentleman's spectacles seemed to twinkle as he 
ran his eye over the slate ; and after making out 
two or three rather savage-looking s's, as many long- 
legged p's, a squat h or two, a big bottle-bellied h, 
three or four gigantic Z's, a broken-backed k or two, 



204 THE FARMER BOY. 

a high-sliouldered ?i', a hea\y-bottomed d, and a 
long slim-tailed y, it struck him, at length, that 
speech-belt, Long Knife, knapsack, Silver Heels, 
wigwam, and powder-monkey, were the 'items con- 
cerninor which Master Charhe desired further enliojht- 
enment. 

"For information touching these matters, my dear 
Charles," then said Uncle Juvinell, " I will pass you 
over to Willie and Dannie, who, I dare say, are 
quite as well posted up in matters of this kind as 
your old uncle ; for, if I mistake not, they have just 
been reading Catlin's book on the Indians, and Gul- 
liver's Travels in Brobdionajr." 

"How is it," inquired Ellen, "that Washington, 
being the good man that he was, could have taken 
part in that wicked war between the French and 
English about a country that didn't belong to either 
of them, but to the poor Indians?" 

Now, although Uncle Juvinell was satisfied in his 
own mind that Washington's conduct in this matter 
was just what it should have been, yet, for all that, 
he was a little puzzled how to answer this question 
in a way that the little folks would rightly under- 
stand. 

" This very thing, my dear niece," replied he 
after a moment's pause, " grieved and troubled his 
mind a great deal, as you may well believe : but he 
knew, that, if the English did not get possession of 
this land, the French would ; and tliis, by increasing 



EXPLANATIONS. 205 

the strength of the enemy, would by and by endan- 
ger the safety of his own native land, and even the 
lives and liberties of his countrymen. And he also 
knew that it would be far better for the spread of 
useful knowledge and the true religion, that all this 
rich country should be in the hands of some Christian 
people, who would make it a place fit to live in, and 
to be peaceful and prosperous and happy in, than 
that it should be left entirely to those barbarous sav- 
ages, who only made of it a place to hunt and to fish 
in, to fight and scalp, and to burn and torture each 
other like devils in. Besides this, it is the duty of 
every true patriot (and no one knew this better than 
he) to serve and defend the country, under the pro- 
tection of whose laws he has lived in peace and 
plenty, against all her enemies, whether at home 
or abroad, even should she now and then be a 
little in the wrong ; for, by so doing, he defends his 
own home and family, rights and liberty, — objects 
that should be as dear to him as life itself." 

" O uncle ! " exclaimed Ned with a start, as if he 
had just caught a passing recollection by the tail as 
it was about skedaddling round the corner, " tell me, 
will you? what kind of a life a charmed life is." 

"Really, Ned," cried Uncle Juvinell, "I am very 
glad that you mentioned it ; for it puts me in mind of 
sometliing I should have told you before, and which 
I might else have forgotten. This, however, is as 
good a time as any ; and, when you hear what I am 



206 THE FAEMER BOY. 

now going to tell you, you will readily understand, 
without further explanation, what is meant when it is 
said of a man that he bears a charmed life about him. 
To do this, I must anticipate a little, or, to speak 
more clearly, take time by the forelock, and, going 
forward a little in our story, tell you of a circum- 
stance which your Uncle Juvinell, when a boy, often 
heard related by Dr. Craik, who was then an aged 
and venerable man. 

" Fifteen years after poor Braddock had been laid in 
his unhonored grave. Col. Wasliington, taking with 
him his friend Dr. Craik, went on an exploring expe- 
dition to the Oliio, in behalf of the brave soldiers 
who had served under liim at the Great Meadows, 
and to whom, it must be remembered, Gov. Din- 
widdie had promised two hundred thousand acres of 
the best land to be found on this great river or its 
branches. There was peace then along the border, 
and little or no danger was to be apprehended from 
the Indians. They travelled in a large canoe, rowed 
by two or three hunters ; and what with fishing in 
the streams (for they took with them their fishing 
tackle), what with hunting in the woods (for they 
took with them their hunting rifles) , what with camp- 
ing on the green shore at night (for they took with 
them their camp utensils) , and what with the com- 
fortable thought that there was not an Indian warrior 
within a hundred miles whose finsfcrs were itchino; for 
then scalps (for they took with them this and many 



EXPLANATIONS. 207 

other pleasant thoughts besides), they had, you may 
depend upon it, a glorious tune. 

" One day, there came to their camp, at the mouth 
of the Great Kanawha, a party of Indians, headed 
by an old chief of grave and venerable aspect, who 
approached Washington with deep reverence, as if 
entering the presence of some superior being. After 
several pipes of tobacco had been smoked, and several 
haunches of venison had been eaten, — the first to 
show that they had come friendly, the last to show 
that they came hungry, — the old chief addressed 
Washington in a speech, which your Uncle Juvinell 
cannot repeat to you word for word as he heard it 
from the lips of the worthy old doctor ; but he well 
remembers the substance thereof, and will give it you 
as nearly as he can in the Indian style of oratory. 

" ' They came and told me,' began the old chief, ' that 
the great Long Knife was in our country ; and I was very 
glad. I said to them, though I be old and feeble, though 
the way be long, and the hills many and high, and the rivers 
many and wide, yet must I go and see him once more 
before I die ; for it is the young warrior, whom, years ago, 
I saw shielded from our bullets by the hand of the Great 
Spirit. Let the pale-faces hear my words. Fifteen sum- 
mers ago, when the woods and thickets were dense and 
green, the French and Indians went out to lay in ambus- 
cade for the big Enghsh general, among the Monongahela 
hills. I took my warriors, and Avent along, and we lay in 
wait together. The English were many and strong ; we 
were few and weak : thus we had no thought of victory in 



208 THE FAE^IER BOY. 

our minds, but only to give our enemies a little trouble, and 
keep them back a while till the big French army came 
down from the Great Lakes. We saw the English army 
cross the river and come up the hill ; yet they suspected not. 
We saw them walk into our snare, up to the very muzzles- 
of our guns ; nor did they dream of danger, till our war- 
whoop went up, and our bullets began to fly as fast as 
winter hail. I saw the red-coats fall, and strew the ground 
like the red leaves of the woods nipped by an untimely 
frost, and smitten by the unseen hands of a mighty wind. 
The snows of eighty winters have fallenr upon my head. I 
have been in many a bloody battle ; yet never saw I the 
red life-stream run as it that day ran down Braddock's 
Hill from English hearts. Listen! I saw that day, 
among the English, a young warrior who was not an Eng- 
lishman. I singled him out as a mark for my rifle ; for he 
was tall and strong, and rode grandly, and his presence 
there was a danger to us. Seventeen times did I take slow 
and steady aim, and fire ; but my bullets went astray, and 
found him not. Then I pointed him out to my young men, 
whose eyes were sharper and whose hands were steadier 
than mine, and bade them bring him down. It was all in 
vain : their bullets glanced f^om him as if he had been a 
rock. I saw two horses fall under him, shot dead ; yet he 
rose unhurt. Then did I lay my hand on my mouth in 
w^onder, and bade my young men turn their rifles another 
M^ay ; for the Great Spirit, I knew, held that young warrior 
in his keeping, and that his anger would be kindled against 
us if we desisted not. Tbat young warrior, the favorite of 
Heaven, the man who is destined never to fall in battle, 
now stands before me. Once more mine eyes have seen 
him, and I shall now go away content.' 



EXPLANATIONS. 209 

"And now, Ned, my boy," said Uncle Juvinell, 
after he had ended this oration, " can you tell me 
what a charmed life is?" 

" One that is bullet-proof, I suppose," replied Ned. 

" You don't mean to say that Washington was bul- 
let-proof, do you. Uncle Juve?" put in doubting 
Charlie. 

" No, not exactly that, my little nephew," replied 
his Uncle Juvinell ; " and yet a great deal more : for, 
beyond all doubt, an all- wise Providence raised up 
George Washington to do the good and great work 
that he did, and to this end 'shielded him when 
encompassed by the perils of battle, strengthened 
him when beset by the wiles of temptation, and 
cheered him when visited by the trials of adversity. 
Dr. Davis, a famous preacher of that day, seemed to 
have looked upon him, as did the old Indian, as one 
favored of Heaven ; for, in a sermon preached by 
him a few weeks after Braddock's defeat, he spoke 
of Col. Washington as 'that heroic youth, whom, 
he could not but hope. Providence had preserved 
in so signal a manner for some important service to 
.his country.' And now, my little folks, the clock 
strikes nine, and our Christmas logs burn low : so 
join your old uncle in an evening hymn ; then 
haste you to your happy beds to sleep and dream the 
peaceful night away." 



xvm. 



WORK IN EARNEST. 



HARDLY had the last clod been thrown on poor 
Braddock's grave, when his army was seized 
with a second and most unaccountable panic ; for no 
one could tell from whence or how it came. With 
those horrid yells still sounding in their ears, and those 
ghastly sights of blood and carnage still fresh in their 
memories, they fancied they heard, in every passing 
gust that stirred the dead leaves, warning wliispers of 
the stealthy approach of the dreaded enemy, and that 
in every waving thicket he might be lurking for 
them in ambush. 

Col. Dunbar, as next in rank, had, for the time 
being, taken command of the troops ; but, cowardly 
as the old general was rash, he shared in the general 
panic, and could do nothing to re-assure his men or 
give them a Httle confidence. So, without waiting to 
Ivnow by whose orders, or if by any at all, they fell 
to, and destroyed all the heavy baggage, baggage- 
wagons, and artillery ; every thing, in fact, that 
could hinder them in their retreat. Thus disencum- 

[210] 



WORK IN EARNEST. 211 

bered, they set out in hot haste ; and after a hurried 
and disorderly march, or rather flight, they reached 
Fort Cumberland. 

Here Col. Washington, who had taken no part 
whatever in the unsoldierly proceedings just men- 
tioned, stopped a few days to recruit a little after the 
severe fatigues he had, for a week past, been called 
upon to undergo, while still too much enfeebled from 
his ten-days' fever. The first use he made of this 
breathing spell was to write an aflectionate letter to 
his much-honored mother to ease her mind of the 
anxiety he knew she would be feeling on his account, 
when rumors of the late disaster should reach her 
ears. He told her of his almost miraculous deliver- 
ance from a cruel and bloody death, in language full 
of gratitude to the God of battles, who had shielded 
him in so signal a manner, when his brave comrades 
were falling by hundreds around him. Writing to his 
brother Augustine at the same time, he wittily says, 
" Since my arrival at this place, I have heard a cir- 
cumstantial account of my death and dying speech ; 
and I take this early opportunity of contradicting the 
former, and assuring you that I have not yet com- 
posed the latter." 

When he had so far regained his strength as to 
enable him to travel, he betook himself once more to 
the peaceful shades of Mount Vernon. He re-entered 
at once upon his duties as Adjutant-General of the 
Northern District, — a post he still continued to hold, 



212 THE FARMER BOY. 

although his connection with the regular army had 
ceased with the death of Braddock. 

But we must return for a few moments to Fort 
Cumberland, where we left the valorous Col. Dunbar 
quite out of breath from the uncommonly brisk 
speed, which seems to have been liis habit now and 
then, of getting over very rough and hilly roads. 
Any soldier, with a spark of manly spirit under his 
sword-belt, would have made a resolute stand at a place 
of so much importance, and held it to the death, 
rather than left the defenceless inhabitants exposed to 
the horrors of a border war. Col. Dunbar was not, 
by any means, the true soldier just liinted at ; and 
consequently did no such thing. Seeing that the sick 
and wounded were but so many clogs to rapid and 
easy motion, he resolved to leave them behind under 
the care of the slender garrison he had placed in the 
fort, who were expected to defend it against an enemy 
that he, with a force of fifteen hundred strong, had 
not the courage to face. Thus rid of liis hinderahces 
to the last degree of lightsomeness, he pushed on by 
forced marches, as if a legion of painted savages were 
yelling at his heels ; and never slackened speed until 
he found himself safe within the friendly walls of 
Philadelphia, where he went into comfortable win- 
ter-quarters wliile yet the dog-days were at their 
hottest. 

Thus basely deserted by these doughty regidars, 
who had been sent over so many thousand miles of 



WOEK m EARNEST. 213 

salt water for their protection, the colonists saw with 
dismay the whole line of their vast frontier, from 
Lake Ontario to the Carolinas, open to the inroads of 
■the French and their Indian alHes. In the lonof-run, 
however (as you shall see hereafter), two luckier 
mishaps than Braddock's defeat and Dunbar's retreat, 
that seemed at the time so fraught with evil, could not 
have befallen them. They were thereby taught two 
wholesome lessons, which they might othenvise have 
been a long time in learning, and without which they 
never could have gained their independence and made 
themselves a nation. The first, by proving that Brit- 
ish regulars were not, by any means, the never-to- 
be-daunted, the never-to-be-beaten, and the never- 
to-be-made-to-skedaddle warriors that they boasted 
themselves to be, and that one-half of the Americans 
were foolish enough to believe them to be. Thus, 
when the War of Independence broke out, our Revolu- 
tionary fathers remembered this, and were not afraid 
to meet the English even on such unequal terms. 
The second, by opening their eyes to the fact, that, as 
they (the colonists) could no longer look to the 
mother-country for protection, they must hencefor- 
ward rely upon their own strength and resources for 
their defence and safety. 

The people of Virginia, seeing the forlorn condition 
of things, were at last aAvakened to a full sense of the 
danger that threatened, not only their back settle- 
ments, but even the heart of the Old Dominion itself. 



214 THE FAKVIER BOY. 

They therefore began to bestir themselves in right 
good earnest to put the province in a better pos- 
ture of defence ; and, to this end, resolved to send 
more troops into the field, raise more money, procure 
new arms and fresh supplies of military stores, and 
erect a chain of twenty block-houses, or small forts, 
stretching along the whole line of their frontier, from 
Pennsylvania to North Carolina, — a distarjce of three 
hundred and sixty miles. Washington's career as a* 
soldier had not, up to this time, been marked by any 
of those daring and brilliant exploits that charm and 
dazzle vulgar minds ; but had, on the contrary, been 
one unbroken train of misfortunes and disasters. Not- 
withstanding this, however, the confidence his coun- 
trymen had placed in his prudence, coin-age, ability, 
and patriotism, so far from having been diminished 
thereby, had gone on steadily gaining strength from 
the very beginning. They well knew, that, had the 
headstrong and unlucky Braddock given heed to his 
prudent and timely counsel, the late campaign could 
never have ended in the disgraceful and disastrous 
manner that it had. As the most flattering proof of 
then esteem and confidence, they now turned to him 
in their hour of peril, and, although he was not yet 
twenty-four years of age, called upon him, as wtth 
one voice, to take the chief command of all the forces 
of the province. After some deliberation, being per- 
suaded that it was really their earnest desire, he 
modestly accepted the appointment, on condition that 



WORK m EARNEST. 215 

certain changes should be made in the mihtary, and 
that he should be allowed to choose liis field-officers. 
This was readily agreed to by the 'Virginia House of 
Burgesses ; who, in addition, voted him fifteen hun- 
dred dollars by way of compensating him for the 
many losses he had suffered, in horses, baggage, and 
money, since the beginning of the war. 

Accordingly, early in the autumn, he took up his 
headquarters at the frontier town of Winchester, 
beyond the Blue Ridge, in the beautifid Valley of the 
Shenandoah. As four great highways met here from 
.. as many different quarters of the country, it was 
a post of much importance ; and he resolved, by 
strongly fortifying it, to make it the rallj^ing-point of 
all the border. His men were all raw recruits, just 
taken from the plough or forge or carpenter's bench, 
as the case might be ; and, to render them fit for the 
peculiar service in which they were to be employed, 
it became his duty, besides training them in the regu- 
lar military exercises, to instruct them in the arts and 
stratagems of Indian warfare, or bush-fighting, as it 
is more aptly called. Long, however, before he was 
ready to take the field, the French and Indians, made 
daring and audacious by their great victory on the 
Monongahela, had crossed the mountains at several 
different points in great numbers, and had already 
begun their bloody work. The terrified and defence- 
less inhabitants dwelling in the distant parts of the 
wilderness now came flocking to the Shenandoah 



216 - THE FARIVIER BOY. 

Valley for protection from the merciless enemy, some 
of them never stopping till they had passed on over 
to the eastern slopes of the Blue Ridge. 

One morning, a rumor found Its way to Winches- 
ter, that a large party of Indians were within twelve 
miles of that place, pillaging, burning, and murder- 
ing at a frightful rate. Straightway a great fear fell 
upon the inhabitants. Little children ran, and hid 
their faces in their mothers' aprons, crying piteously ; 
women ran hither and thither, screaming, and wring- 
ing their hands ; and broad-shouldered, double-fisted 
men stood stock-still, and shook in their moccasins. 
Washington tried to prevail upon some of his soldiers 
to sally out with him, and drive the enemy back from 
the valley ; but, being strangers to military obe- 
dience, not a leather-shirt of all the rabble could he 
get to venture beyond the ditches. When he put 
them in mind of what was expected of them as men 
and soldiers, they only answered, that, if they must 
die, they would rather stay there, and die with their 
wives and families. Having a lurking suspicion, that, 
after all, there might be more smoke than fire in 
these flying rumors, he sent out a scout to bring him 
some more certain tidings of the matter. In a won- 
derfully short time, the scout came back, pale and 
affrighted, with the dismal intelligence that he had, 
with his own ears, heard the guns and yells of the 
Indians not four miles distant, and that Winchester 
would be beset by the savages in less than an hour. 



WOllK IN EAENEST. 217 

Whereupon Washington made another appeal to the 
courage and manhood of his men ; which proved so 
far successful, that a forlorn hope of forty finally 
screwed up pluck enough to follow him to the scene 
of danger. Moving with great caution and circum- 
spection, and keeping all their ears and eyes about 
them, the party came at length to the spot mentioned 
by the scout ; where, sure enough, they heard a some- 
w^hat scattering discharge of fire-arms, and divers 
outlandish noises, that bore, however, but a very 
slight resemblance to the terrific yells and whoops of 
Indian warriors. Advancing a few paces farther, a 
sudden turn of the road brought them in sight of two 
drunken soldiers, who were cursing and swearing and 
hallooing in a manner quite outrageous and immoral ; 
and now and then, by way of adding a little spice to 
this part of their entertainment, firing ofi" their pistols 
into the tree-tops. And this it was that had given 
rise to those wild rumors that had thrown the whole 
country into such a terrible panic. To this impru- 
dent waste of breath and ammunition, the latter of 
which they had but little enough to spare, Washing- 
ton put a rather sudden stop by ordering the lively 
young blades to be seized, and carried as prisoners to 
Winchester, where he kept them in severe confine- 
ment for more than a week after they had regained 
their sober senses. All this was ludicrous enough ; 
and you may be sure that Washington, although 
grave and dignified beyond his years, had a hearty 

10 



218 THE FARRIER BOY. 

laugh over it the first time he found himself alone with 
one or two of his brother-officers. 

In addition to his other cares, the duties of his 
office required him to visit, from time to time, the 
several forts along the frontier, to see that those al- 
ready finished were kept in fighting order, and give 
directions for the proper construction of those still 
under way. Now, the little garrison of forty men, 
that Col. Dunbar had left to hold and defend Fort 
Cumberland against the combined armies of the 
French and Indians, was commanded by a certain 
Dagworthy, who, pluming himself upon the king's 
commission as captain, refused to own the authority 
and render obedience to the orders of Washington, 
who held only a governor's commission as colonel. 
It will be remembered, that Washington had a 
similar misunderstanding with Capt. Mackay, eigh- 
teen months before, at the Great Meadows, touching 
this same question of rank between royal and provin- 
cial officers, which had caused him great trouble and 
annoyance. Matters had now come to such a pass, 
that a little upstart captain of forty men could set at 
naught the authority of the commander-in-chief of the 
forces of a whole province, merely because he could 
boast a bit of paper embellished with the king's name. 
This was a degradation too grievous to be longer 
borne by a manly, independent spirit. Though sorely 
vexed and annoyed, Washington had too much self- 
respect and prudence to make a noise about the mat- 



WORK IN EARNEST. 219 

ter ; but he inwardly resolved, that, as soon as the 
coming-on of winter would oblige the Indians to re- 
cross the mountains to the shelter of their homes 
beyond, he would take advantage of the breathing 
spell thus allowed him to make a journey to Boston, 
there to submit the question for final settlement to 
Gen. Shirley, who had succeeded Braddock to the 
chief command of all the British forces in America. 

Accordingly, when the departure of the Indians 
brought the distressed inhabitants of the border the 
prospect of a few months' peace and quiet, he de- 
parted for Boston, in company with two of his 
brother-officers, Capts. Stewart and Mercer. 

Now, in those days, a journey from the Old 
l)ominion to the Bay City, a distance of but five 
hundred miles, in the depth of winter, when the roads 
were either deep and stiff with mire, or rough and 
knobby with frost, was really a greater undertaking 
than a voyage in a steamship from Boston to Con- 
stantinople would now be considered. Our young 
men travelled on horseback, as was the fashion of the 
day ; and took with them their negro servants, who, 
riding behind with their masters' saddle-bags and 
portmanteaus, and dressed in fine livery, with gold 
lace on their fur hats, and blue cloaks, gave quite 
an air of style and consequence to the Httle caval- 
cade. 

Washington's fame had long since gone before him, 
as was proved by the marked distinction and respect 



220 THE FARMEE BOY. 

with which he was treated at Philadelphia, New York, 
and other places along the route. All were eager 
to behold with their own eyes the youthful hero, 
whose gallant conduct and wonderful escape at the 
defeat of Braddock had been so noised throufrhout 

o 

the Colonies ; and when we add to this his tall and 
commanding form, the manly beauty of his face, his 
dignified bearing, his rich and handsome dress, and 
the unequalled skill with which he managed his large 
and noble horse, we cannot wonder at the interest 
and admiration liis appearance awakened in the minds 
of all who saw him. 

r When he got to Boston, where he likewise met with 
a flattering reception, he lost no time in making 
known to Gen. Sliirley the business that had taken 
him thither. The justness and reasonableness of his 
complaints were promptly acknowledged by this offi- 
cer, who, to place the vexed question beyond dispute, 
declared, that henceforward Capt. Dagworthy and 
all inferior officers, holding king's commissions, 
should own the authority and render obedience to 
the orders of all provincial officers of superior rank. 
This, the main object of his journey, thus happily 
disposed of. Col. Washington set out on his return 
to Virginia : but, knowing that the Indian war- 
whoop was not likely soon to be heard in the Shenan- 
doah Valley, he indulged himself so far as to tarry 
two whole weeks at New- York City ; and for the 
best of reasons, as I will tell you. 



WORK IN EARNEST. 221 

On his way to Boston, he had met here with the 
beautiful and accomplished Miss Phillipps, with 
whom he was vastly pleased ; and it .was for the 
nearer study of this young lady's charms, and further 
cultivation of her acquaintance, that our young Vir- 
ginia colonel was now tempted for once in his life 
thus to linger on his way. Nothing came of it, 
however, that anybody now can tell ; although the 
lady, you may stake your heads upon it, must 
and ought to have been highly flattered at being 
thus singled out by the young hero whose name 
and praise were in everybody's mouth. Perhaps his 
admiration never ripened into love ; and, if it did, 
his modesty, as in the case of the Lowland Beauty, 
must have hindered him from making known his par- 
tiality. Whatever it may have been, it is, at this 
late day, of little consequence ; for long before that 
year had passed away, with all its anxious cares, its 
perils and privations, and with all its train of ghastly 
Indian horrors, these tender sentiments had become 
to him nothing more than pleasant memories. 



XIX. 

DARK DAYS. 

IT were long to tell you, my dear clilldren, all 
that happened to Washington, and all that he 
did for the next two or three years of his life. I 
shall, therefore, in as brief and clear u manner as 
may be, present to your minds a picture simply of 
those scenes in which he figured as the chief actor ; 
although there were, it must be remembered, others 
who played a far more important part in this old 
Trench War than our young Virginia colonel. 

The French and Indians, early in the spring of 
these years, were wont to cross the mountains at 
different points, and for months together follow their 
usual programme of fire, plunder, and massacre, till 
the approach of winter, when, loaded with booty 
and scalps, they would go as they had come, only 
to return on the opening of the following spring. 
With these cruel savages, and their scarcely less 
cruel white allies , neither age nor sex found mercy ; 
old men, tender women, and helpless children, alike 
falling victims to their murderous tomahawks and 
scalping-knives. Farms were laid waste, crops de- 

[222] 



DAEK DAYS. 223 

stroyed, cattle butchered ; and often, for days and 
nights together, the smoke could be seen in many 
directions at once, as it rose from burning barns and 
dwellings, and hung like a pall over the ill-fated 
land. At last, so great became the audacity of these 
pestilent savages, that they carried their depredations 
within cannon range of the very walls of Winchester ; 
and, under their destroying hand, the rich and beau- 
tiful Valley of the Shenandoah seemed likely soon 
again to become a waste and desert place. It was 
a boast of theirs, that they could take any fort that 
could be fired ; and round these places of refuge 
they would skulk and lurk with the greatest patience 
for a week at a time, quite content could they but 
get a single shot at such of the garrison as dared to 
show themselves beyond shelter of the walls. Some- 
times, suddenly darting from their hiding-place, they 
would pounce upon little children playing in the 
w^oods, and, in fidl view of the fort, bear them away 
captives, never more to be seen by their bereaved 
parents, who could only listen in helpless anguish to 
the piteous cries of their little innocents, that grew 
fainter and fainter as their savage raptors hurried 
them farther and farther into the gloomy depths of 
the wilderness. 

Often, in their excursions along the frontier, 
"Washington and his men would come upon the still 
smoking ruins of a happy home, or the hacked and 
mangled body of an unfortunate traveller who had 



224 THE FARMER BOY. 

been waylaid and murdered by the Indians in some 
lonely mountain glen. In after-life, the recollection 
of these harrowino; scenes was to Washino^ton so 
painful, that he could but seldom be brought to 
speak of them. Now and then, however, he would 
relate to a few friends some of these dark expe- 
riences ; among which is the following, given in his 
own words, as a fair example of all the rest : — 

" One day," said he, " as we were traversing a part of 
the frontier, we came upon a small log-house, standing 
in the centre of a little clearing, surrounded by woods on all 
sides. As we approached, we heard the report of a gun, — ■ 
the usual signal of coming horror. Our party crept 
cautiously through the underwood, until we had approached 
near enough to see what we had already foreboded. A 
smoke was slowly making its way through the roof of the 
house ; when, at the same time, a party of Indians came 
forth, laden with plunder, — consisting of clothes, house- 
hold furniture, domestic utensils, and dripping scalps. We 
fired, and killed all but one, who tried to get away, but was 
soon overtaken and shot down. Upon entering the hut, 
there met us a sight, which, though we were familiar with 
scenes of blood and massacre, struck us — at least myself — 
with feehngs more mournful than I had ever experienced 
before. On a bed, in one corner of the room, lay the body 
of a young woman, swimming in blood, with a gash in the 
forehead that almost separated the head into two parts. 
On her breast lay two little babes, less than a twelvemonth 
old, also with their heads cut open ; their innocent blood, 
that had once flowed in one common vein, now minjrlino: in 

^ DO 



DARK DAYS. 225 

the same current again. I was inured to scenes of blood- 
shed and misery ; but tliis cut me to the heart ; and never 
in my after-life did I raise my arm against a savage, with- 
out calling to mind the mother and her little twins with 
their heads cleft asunder. On examining the tracks of the 
Indians to see what other murders they might have com- 
mitted, we found a little boy, and, a few steps forward, his 
father, both scalped, and both stone-dead. From the 
prints of the boy's feet, it seemed that he had been follow- 
ing the plough with his father, whom he had probably seen 
shot down ; and, in attempting to escape, had been pursued, 
overtaken, and murdered. The ruin was complete : not 
one of the family had been spared. Such was the character 
of this miserable warfare. The wretched people of the 
frontier never went to rest without bidding each other fare- 
well ; for the chances were they might never wake again, or 
wake only to find their last sleep. When leaving one spot 
for the purpose of giving protection to another point of 
exposure, the scene was often such as I shall never forget. 
The women and children would cling around our knees, 
and mothers would hold up their little babes before our eyes, 
begging us to stay and protect them, and, for God's sake, 
not leave them to be butchered by the savages. A hundred 
times, I declare to Heaven, I would have laid down my life 
with pleasure under the tomahawk and scalping-knife, 
could I, by the sacrifice, have insured the safety of these 
suffering people." 

The little folks can vrell imagine how scenes like 
these must have pained and wrung a heart like Wash- 
ino^ton's. But what could he do? His whole force 

10* 



226 THE FARMER BOY. 

did not exceed one thousand fighting men ; with 
which he had to man more than twenty forts, and 
guard a frontier of nearly four hundred miles' extent. 
In addition to this, his men had been so scattered all 
the while at these different points, as to have placed 
it altogether beyond liis power to give that attention 
to their military training which he had had so near at 
heart when he first entered upon his command. It 
naturally followed, then, that there was among the 
greater number an almost total want of order and 
discipline. They came and went when and where it 
suited their humor best ; were impatient of control ; 
wasted their ammunition, of which there was a great 
scarcity, in target-shooting ; were far more ready to 
trouble their officers with good advice than aid them 
by prompt obedience to orders ; and, if their sagacious 
counsels went unheeded, they would, without more 
ado, shoulder their rifles in high dudgeon, and tramp 
home. And, withal, so tender were they of what 
they were pleased to call their hmior, that they would 
take it as quite an insult to be put on soldiers' rations ; 
and were too proud or lazy — which with them was 
the same thing — to carry their own provisions while 
on the march ; choosing, rather, to risk what chance 
might bring them, in the shape of bullocks, sheep, or 
pigs, which they would knock down, without a "By 
your leave " to the owner, and, after eating as much 
as satisfied their present hunger, would throw the 
rest away. Thus, between their wasteful defenders 



DAEK DAYS. . 227 

and their wasting invaders, the poor distressed in- 
habitants were brought to the verge of starvation. 

The forts were too far apart to prevent the Indians 
from passing between ; and the garrisons were too 
weak to lend each other aid when any of them 
chanced to be in hard, besetting need. This plan of 
giving defence to the border had been strongly- 
opposed by Washington, who foresaw the disad- 
vantages just hinted at, and had urged the exact 
contrary. This was, instead of having so many small 
forts, with but a handful of men in each, to fortify 
Winchester in the completest manner possible, with 
a view of making it the only stronghold and rallylng- 
point of all the border, and to be manned by the 
main body of the troops, who were to give support 
to the smaller parties in their excursions against the 
enemy. Long before the war was ended, it was 
clearly to be seen, that, had this plan been adopted, 
much useless expenditure of money and shedding of 
blood would have been avoided. As it was, the 
cunning and watchful foe, whose motions were swift 
as the birds, and secret as death, could pass between 
these forts, not only unopposed, but even unobserved, 
and, without let or hinderance, lay waste the country 
for the protection of which they had been built. 
Under this most melancholy state of things, all the 
region west of the Blue Ridge was fast becoming the 
dreary and silent wilderness it had been In days gone 
by. Scarcely a shadow of its former population was 



228 . THE FARMER BOY. 

left : some had fled to the forts for reftige ; some had 
resettled in the eastern parts of the province ; some 
had been carried away into cruel captivity ; and 
many, very many, had met with a horrible death at 
the hands of the merciless invaders. 

As if all this we have just related were not 
enough to try the patience and fortitude of young 
Washington, evil reports, injurious to his character, 
and charging him with being the author of all these 
failures and calamities, were set agoing by secret 
enemies at home. Foremost among these, you will 
be surprised and sorry to learn, was Gov. Dinwiddie, 
who had for some time past regarded with a jealous 
and envious eye this rising hope of the land, and 
was now seeking, by a variety of imderhand means, 
to have him disgraced from the service, that Col. 
Innez, a particular chum of his, might be advanced 
to the chief command of the Virginia troops instead. 
The lower offices of the army he was zealous to 
bestow upon a knot of needy adventurers, who, being 
Scotchmen like himself, were in high favor with him, 
and scrupled not to make liis likes and dislikes their 
own, if, by so doing, they coidd further their own 
private advantage. Perhaps Gov. Dinwiddie him- 
self may not have been the direct author of these 
reports ; but it is quite certain that his hungry 
hangers-on would never have dared whisper them 
had they not been fully aware of the ill-will he bore 
the person by whose injury they hoped to profit, and 



DAEK DAYS. 229 

that they had but to do the thing, when their patron 
would not only wink at it, but even give it his secret 
approval. 

When these malicious whisperings came to the 
ears of Washington, he was stung to the quick by 
such unfair and unmerited treatment. Feeling 
assured in his own conscience that he had done liis 
whole duty as far as in him lay, all his strong and 
manly nature was roused to indignant anger, that his 
fair name should thus become the target of these 
arrows flying in the dark, without an opportunity 
being allowed him of a fair and open hearing in his 
own defence. He would have left the service at 
once, — the very end his enemies had been plotting 
so hard to bring about, — had not the frontier settle- 
ments, just at that moment, been thi'eatened with 
more than usual peril ; and to have deserted his post 
at such a time would have given his accusers real 
grounds for the charges, which heretofore had been 
but a mere pretence. Before the immediate danger 
was past that kept him at his post, many of his 
warmest and most influential friends, residing in dif- 
ferent parts of the province, had written to him, 
\ earnestly entreating him not to think of resigning his 
command ; assuring him, at the same time, that the 
base slanders of those evil-minded men had found no 
place whatever in the minds of his feUow-countrymen. 
On the contrary, beholding the courage, patience, 
and humanity with which he was discharging the 



230 , THE FAEMER BOY. 

high and sacred duties tliey had intrusted to him, 
they felt their love for him, and confidence in him, 
increasing every day. With this gratifying assurance 
that his conduct and motives were rightly understood 
by those whose approbation he was most desirous of 
winninof, Washino^ton now held on his course with 
renewed hope and spirit. 

Thenceforward, Gov. Dinwiddie, as if to revenge 
himself for this failure of his base and selfish design, 
never let an opportunity slip of thwarting or annoy- 
ing the man whose high public character his petty 
malice could not reach, and whose private worth his 
mean envy could not tarnish. His letters to Wash- 
ington, the tone of which heretofore had been uncivil 
enough, now became harsh and insolent, full of fault- 
finding, and bristling all over with biting reproofs 
and unmanly insinuations. Although wretchedly 
ignorant of military matters, and at a distance from 
the seat of active operations , yet he must needs take 
upon himself the full control of all the troops of the 
province, without seeming to trouble his mind as to 
what might be the wishes and opinions of him who 
was in fact their true leader. Whether from a spite- 
ful desire to perplex the object of his dislike, or 
natural fickleness of character, every letter from him 
brought with it some new plan. To-day, he ordered 
this ; to-morrow, he ordered that ; and, the next day, 
upset the other two by something quite diiferent 
from either : so that Wasliington was often left com- 



DARK DAYS. 231 

pletely In the dark as to what the uncertain meddler's 
wishes or plans really were. 

At last, from being thus harassed in mind by these 
petty annoyances, and worn In body by the hardships 
of such rough service, his health failed him ; and he 
was advised to repair to Mount Vernon, and there 
remain until his disease should take a more favorable 
turn. Here he lay for four long, weary months, 
before he could rejoin his regiment ; during much of 
which time, his friends, who nursed and watched him, 
really regarded his recovery as doubtful. This Is 
another instance of what so often seems to us a 
matter of wonder, — thepower of a narrow-minded, 
mean-spirited, Ill-tempered, false-hearted man to 
inflict pain on a noble and lofty nature. 

A short time before the close of the war. It 
becoming quite certain that he had been putting 
public money. Intrusted to his keeping, to private or 
dishonorable uses. Gov. Dinwiddle was recalled, and 
another sent over to fill his place. Being the man 
here described, and a petty tyrant withal, nobody 
was sorry to see him go, except the needy toadies 
who had hung about him, and who, seeing that 
nothing was likely to turn up for them in the New 
World, packed off to Scotland with their patron, as 
hungry and empty-handed as they came. 

By the by, I must not forget to tell you of the 
heroic conduct of old Lord Fairfax. Greenway 
Court, as you no doubt remember, was In the She- 



232 THE FARMER BOY. 

nandoali Yalley, not many miles from Winchester ; 
and, situated on the very edge of a vast forest, was 
quite open to the inroads of the Indians, any one 
of whom would have risked limb or life to get his 
bloody clutches on the gray scalp of so renowned a 
Long Knife. To meet this danger, as well as do 
his part towards the general defence, he mustered his 
hunters and negro servants, to the number of a 
hundred or thereabouts, and formed them at his own 
expense into a company of horse, with which the 
keen old fox-hunter, now as daring a trooper, scoured 
the country from time to time, and did good service.' 



XX. 

A NEW ENTERPRISE. 

AM) thus these melancholy years came and went, 
with all their dark and painful experiences. 
A firm and self-reliant spirit like Washington's, how- 
ever, could not be long cast down by even severer 
trials than those by which we have just seen his 
strength and manliood tested : so, from that time 
forward, come what might, he resolved to hold right 
on, nor bate a jot of heart or hope or zeal or pa- 
tience, till the coming-on of better days, when, God 
willing, he might render a good and faithful account 
of this, his country's trust. 

But the little folks must not suppose that Col. 
Washington and Gov. Dinwiddie were by any 
means the only persons of consequence who figured 
in this Old French War. On the contrary, there 
were others of far more importance at the time than 
they, not so much from any pecidiar merit of their 
own, as from the part they played in those events ; 
and upon whom, as such, I must needs bestow some 
passing notice, were it but to give to our story 

[233] 



^'M Tin: r.vKMKK lun'. 

i^rontor (,'lonrnoss :uul complotonoss. A\ li:it coiu'crns 
viMi to know ot" tluMU nt |irosont 1 will briiMlv sum up 
in a tow wonls, nuil uiako it as plain to vou as :i 
taMo ot" siniplo adilitiou. 

As (\)uuuauilor-in-i'hiot' oi' all tho Urilisli tbrocs in 
AnuM'ica, Hrai](K>ok, as I havo told you olsowhoiv, 
>vas suihhhhUhI In (Jon. 8hirlov ; who, pn>\ in*:,- liini- 
solt* unilt tor the ]>1:uh\ was soon iwalKnl, anil Lt>nl 
lj(nuli>un sont i>vor tVoni Knglaud instoail : who, 
JMHH ini;" hinisolt' 0([uallv untit, was iloalt with in tho 
sanio niannor, and (ion. Ahoronnnhio sent over in- 
stead : who alsi>, j>rovinii" hintsolt' inoonipotont, was 
also iwallod, and (Jen. Amherst sent over; who, 
jiroviui:; a wiser ehoiee, there tolloweil happier re- 
8idts ; and it tell to him, and to the hrave yoimg 
ovueral, AN'olte, his next in rank, to bring this loui; 
and Irksome war, in due eourse ot" tiuu\ to a glo- 
rii>us end. Aitei' the tailure ot' Hraddoek's desii:;ns 
aii'ainst Fort Ihupuv^ne, the eiunpu\><t o( C^uiada 
was made the ehiet' ohjeet ot" the British (lovern- 
luent ; and the rei^ious of the North theneetorth 
beeanu' the seat o\' war. ^^ hile our youuLi' \ iri^inia 
colonel, makiuii" the best use ot" the slender nutans 
allowed him, was struii'iiliuii' to kee[> baek the pesti- 
lent savjiges and their pestilent white allies troni his 
long line ot'troutier in the South and West, some of 
these leaders with their red allies, and some ot' the 
Freneh leailers with their red allies, were, with vari- 
ous tort lines and uiistbrtunes on either side, earrvini;* 



A NEW F.NTKIilMIISR. 2.'^5 

on the war along tlic })or(lers of the great Lake Onta- 
rio, the little Laken Chani[)]aln and George, and up 
and down the mighty St. Lawrence. 

Of these English leaders, I will mention Lord 
Londoun merely, as being the only one with whom 
AVnsliington had any special dealings. Had this 
nohknnan come up to the hopes and expectations 
which many of tlie colonists were at first wild enough 
to,<intertain respecting him, he would have regained 
what Braddock liad lost, overrun and conquered 
C/anada, and made a clean finish of the whole French 
empire in America, in less than six months' time. 
They soon discovered, however, that he was one of 
tliose mducky persons, who, knowing much, seldom 
know wliat use to make of their knowledge ; who, 
having no will that they can call their own, can 
never turn the will of others to any good or seasona- 
ble purj)()se ; and wlio, making a great show of 
doing, have never any thing to show in the end what 
they have done. In this last particular, Dr. Frank- 
lin, witli that peculiar humor all his own, likened liim 
to the picture of St. George on the sign, that was 
always on horseback, but never riding on. 

Now, the recapture of Fort Duquesne, ever since 
the disgraceful failure of that first attempt, had been 
the one object nearest to Washington's heart. Fore- 
seeing that there could never be peace or safety for 
the l)ack settlements of the middle provinces so long 
as this stronghold of the enemy sent out its savage 



236 THE FARMER BOY. 

swarms to scourge and waste the border, he had re- 
peatedly called Lord Loudoun's attention to the fact, 
and most earnestly urged Its seizure as the only reme- 
dy. It was not, however, until early in the autumn 
of 1758, that an expedition, having for its object his 
long-cherished scheme, was set on foot. It was 
undertaken with a force of three thousand Pennsyl- 
vanlans, twelve hundred North Carolinians, Wash- 
ington's detachment of nineteen hundred Virginians, 
seven hundred Indians, and a few hundred regu- 
lars, — numbering in all seven thousand men, or 
thereabouts, — with Gen. Forbes for then' chief 
commander. 

As an easy and rapid communication between the 
back settlements of Virginia and Pennsylvania would 
greatly lessen the difficulties of the coming campaign, 
this officer caused a road to be opened between Fort 
Cumberland and Raystown, a frontier post of the 
last-named province, where he had fixed his head- 
quarters. Before the expedition could be put in 
motion, it was necessary that Col. Washington should 
go to Williamsburg to make known to the Virginia 
Legislature the needy condition of his soldiers, and 
make a call upon them for fresh supplies of tents, 
blankets, clothing, wagons, arms, &c. 

Accordingly, attended by his trusty negro servant 
Bishop, and mounted on his splendid white charger, — 
both of which had been bequeathed to him by poor 
Braddock, — he set out on his joiu'ney, which proved 



A NEW ENTERPRISE. 237 

an eventful one indeed to him, as you shall directly 
see. At the ferry of the Pamunkey, a branch of 
York River, he fell in with Mr. Chamberlin, an ac- 
quaintance of his, who, according to the hospitable 
customs of those good old times, invited him to call 
at his house, not far distant, and be his honored 
guest till morning. The young colonel wojild be only 
too happy to do so : but the nature of his business 
was such as would not admit of an hour's delay ; 
indeed, it was quite out of the question, and he must 
hasten on. But, his friend repeating the invitation in 
a manner too earnest to be mistaken, he felt it would 
be uncourteous to refuse ; and consented to stop and 
dine with him ; on condition, however, that he should 
be allowed to proceed on his journey that same even- 
ing. At his friend's hospitable mansion he met 
with a gay and brilliant throng of ladies and gentle- 
men, who, though strangers to him, knew him well 
by reputation, and were but too proud to be thus 
unexpectedly tlnrown in his company. Among them 
was Mrs. Martha Custis, a young and beautiful 
widow of good family and large fortune. Her 
husband had died three years before ; leaving her 
with two small children, a girl and a boy. She is 
said to have been a lady of most winning and en- 
gaging manners, and of an excellent and cultivated 
understanding. In statm^e she was a little below 
middle size, and of a round and extremely well-pro- 
portioned form ; which, on this occasion, was set off 



238 THE FARMER BOY. 

to the best advantage by a dress of rich bhie silk. 
Her hair was dark ; her features were pleasing and 
regTilar ; and there was a look of earnest, womanly 
softness in her hazel eyes, that found its way at once 
to the heart and confidence of all on whom it 
chanced to rest. 

The little folks will not, I hope, suffer their admi- 
ration and respect for our young hero to be lessened 
in the least, if I tell them, that, like the rest of 
mankind who came within the magic circle of those 
bewitcliing charms, he was first surprised into admi- 
ration, and then led, whether or no, at a single step, 
into the enchanted realms of love. You have seen, 
how that, in his boyhood, he wrote broken-hearted 
verses to his Lowland Beauty ; and how that, two or 
three years before, he had nearly yielded himself 
captive to the beautiful Miss Phillipps : which ought 
to prove to the satisfaction of all reasonable minds, 
that AYasliington, like other men, had a heart of real 
human flesh, that now and then gave him not a little 
trouble, despite that grave and dignified reserve 
which hung about him like a spell, and, even at that 
early age, was something to. many quite overawing. 
The dinner, that had at first, in his hurry, seemed so 
long in coming on, seemed now quite as fast in going 
oif. Not that I would have you suppose by this, that 
he thought the guests were showing any indecent 
haste to make way with the dishes that were set 
before them without number, and heaped up without 



A NEW ENTERPRISE. 239 

measure, on Mr. Cliamberlln's ample board. On 
the contrary, they partook of the good things of the 
table with a well-bred slowness, that would have been 
beyond his endurance to bear, had Mars been thun- 
dering with his iron fist at the gates of his fortress. 
But as it was Cupid, only tapping with his rosy 
knuckles at the casement of his heart, that dinner 
seemed no longer to him than, no, not half so long 
indeed as, the shortest snack he had ever eaten 
on horseback in the hiu'ry of a forced march. 
The dinner over, Washington seemed in no haste to 
depart. 

The trusty Bishop, knowing well what a punc- 
tual man his master always was, had appeared, 
according to orders, with the horses ; and was plainly 
enough to be seen from the parlor window, had any 
one cared to look that way, patiently waiting with 
them in the pleasant shade of an apple-tree. The 
fiery white charger soon began to paw the ground, 
impatient at his master's unwonted tardiness ; but no 
rider came. Bishop Braddock shifted his place once, 
twice, thrice, to keep himself and horses in the shade 
of the apple-tree ; but still his master lingered : and 
the ivory grin that settled by degrees on his ebony 
mug showed that he had a sly suspicion of what was 
going on in the house. The afternoon sped away as 
if old Time, all of a sudden forgetting his rheumatism, 
had reached sunset at a single stride. Of course, 
they would not suffer him to depart at this late hour : 



240 THE FAEMER BOY. 

SO Bishop was ordered to restable the horses, and 
make himself easy and snug for the night with the 
colored folks down at their quarters. The next 
morning, the sun was hours on his journey to the 
west, before our love-smitten hero was on his way to 
Williamsbm'g. 

Once in the saddle, however, all his yesterday's 
impatience returned upon him with redoubled force ; 
and, giving his fiery white charger the spur, he 
dashed away at a break-neck speed on the road to 
the Virginia capital. It is said, so fast did he travel 
on that day, that, to keep up with him. Bishop Brad- 
dock ran serious risk of having his woolly nob shaken 
from his shoulders by the high, hard trotter he rode ; 
and so sore was he made by the jolting he got, 
that, for a week thereafter, it was quite as much as 
he could do to bring his legs together. This last, 
by the way, is merely traditional, and must be re- 
ceived by the little folks with some caution. 

Luckily, the White House, the residence of Mrs. 
Custis, was situated within a very few miles of Wil- 
liamsburg ; which gave young Washington many 
opportunities, during his two-weeks' stay at that 
place, of seeing her, and still further cultivating her 
acquaintance. Experience, that sage teacher who 
never spoke to him in vain, had taught him, that al- 
though there are many blessings of this world wliich 
seem to come of their own accord, yet there are a 
few that never come except at the asking for ; and 



A NEW ENTERPRISE. 241 

the chiefest of these is woman's love. So, resolving 
to profit by this knowledge, he did precisely what 
any wise and reasonable man would have done in his 
place, — overcame his troublesome bashfulness, and 
made the lady an offer of marriage ; which she, pre- 
cisely as any wise and reasonable woman would have 
done in her place, modestly accepted. The business 
that had called him to Williamsburg being at last 
disposed of, Washington took leave of his intended, 
after it had been agreed between them to keep up an 
interchange of letters until the close of the present 
campaign, when they were to be united in the holy 
bonds of wedlock. 

Upon his return to Winchester, he was dismayed 
to find that the English generals had taken it into 
their inexperienced heads to cut a new road from 
Raystown to Fort Duquesne by the way of Laurel 
HUl, instead of marching there at once by the old 
Braddock Road, as he naturally supposed had been 
their intention from the beginning. Foreseeing the 
consequences, he, in an earnest and forcible manner, 
hastened to represent to them the difficulties and 
disadvantages of such an undertaking. Cold weather 
would be setting in, he urged, long before they could 
cut their way through so many miles of that moun- 
tain wilderness to the point in question ; and they 
would be obliged either to winter at Laurel Hill, or 
fall back upon the settlements until spring. This 
would give the enemy time to get full intelligence of 

11 



242 THE FAKMER BOY. 

tlieir threatened danger, and send to Canada for 
re-enforcements. Their Indian allies too, as was 
their wont, would grow impatient at the long 
delay that must needs attend this plan if carried 
out ; and, returning to their homes in disgust, would 
fail to render to the expedition their valuable services 
as scouts and spies, as had been expected of them. 
On the other hand, by taking the old road, they could 
march directly to the fort ; which, being at that time 
but feebly garrisoned, must fall almost without a 
blow, and this, too, in less than half the time, and 
with less than half the trouble and expense. This 
prudent counsel, coming from one, who, from his 
knowledge of the country, had so good a right to 
give it, was nevertheless overruled. The English 
generals had gathered a most appalling idea of the 
difficulties and dangers of this route from the account 
Braddock had given of it In his letters. He had 
therein described It as lying through a region where 
the mountains were of the highest and steepest, the 
forests of the thickest and tallest, the rocks of the 
most huge and rugged, the swamps of the deepest, 
and the torrents of the swiftest. The route for the 
new road, on the contrary, according to the Penn- 
sylvanlans, who saw In it a great advantage to them- 
selves, lay through a region where the mountains 
were not by far so lofty, the woods so thick, the 
rocks so huge, the swamps so deep, nor the streams 
so swift, or half so given to running rampant over 



A NEW ENTERPRISE. 243 

their banks. All these advantages this route had, 
besides being fifty miles shorter. So, under the 
mistaken notion that more was to be gained by fol- 
lowino; a short road that would take them a lono- 
time in getting over, than by following a long one 
that would take them but a short time in o-ettino: 
over, they resolved to cut the new road. 

This was a sore disappointment to Col. Washing- 
ton ; for he saw in it a likelihood of Braddock's folly 
being played all over again, and that, too, on a still 
larger scale. The tidings of glorious victories won 
by British arms in the North had filled the whole 
country with triumph and rejoicing, that rendered 
him all the more impatient at the tardiness with 
which their own expedition was moving forward. 
" He wished to rival the successes of the North by 
some brilliant blow in the South. Perhaps a desire 
for personal distinction in the eyes of the lady of his 
choice may have been at the bottom of his impa- 
tience." This last, it is but fair to say, is an asser- 
tion of our great countryman, Washington Irving ; 
who, being a wise and learned historian, would not 
have made it, you may be sure, had not his deep 
insight into the workings of the human heart given 
him a perfect right so to do. If this be not enough 
to convince you that such was really the case, know 
that your Uncle Juvinell is entirely of the same 
opinion . 



XXI. 



MOKE BLUNDERING. 



AT last, about the middle of September, the 
expedition was set in motion. Gen. Forbes 
sent Col. Boquet m advance, with nearly two thou- 
sand men, to open and level the road. In order to 
get more certain information touching the condition 
of the enemy, — his number, strength, and probable 
designs, — it was thought advisable by some of the 
officers to send out a large party of observation in 
the direction of Fort Duquesne. It was to be made 
up of British regulars, Scotch Highlanders, and 
Pennsylvania and Virginia rangers, — eight hundred 
picked men in all. Washington strongly disap- 
proved the plan, on the ground that the regulars, 
being wholly unacquainted with the Indian mode of 
fighting, and unable to operate at so great a distance 
without taking]: with them a cumbrous train of bao- 
gage, would prove a hinderance, instead of a further- 
ance, to an enterprise which must needs owe its 
success to the caution, silence, secrecy, and swiftness 
on the part of those engaged. He therefore advised 

[244] 



MORE BLUNDERING. 245 

the sending-out of small companies of rangers and 
Indian hunters, who, knowing the country well, 
could spy out the enemy with less risk of detection 
to themselves, and, moving without baggage, could 
make far better speed with the tidings they may have 
gathered. The like advice, you may remember, he 
gave to Braddock. It met with a like reception, and 
the like disaster was the consequence. 

The party set out from Laurel Hill, and began Its 
tedious tramp across the fifty miles of wilderness that 
lay between that point and Fort Duquesne. It was 
headed by Major Grant, a noisy, blustering braggart, 
who, hankering after notoriety rather than seeking 
praise for duty well and faithfully done, went beyond 
the limits of his instructions ; wliich were simply to 
find out all he could about the enemy, without suffer- 
ing the enemy to find out more than he could help 
about himself, and, by all possible means, to avoid a 
battle. But, instead of conducting the expedition 
with silence and circumspection, he marched along in 
so open and boisterous a manner, as made it appear 
he meant to give the enemy timely notice of his com- 
ing, and bully him into an attack even while yet on 
the way. The French, keeping themselves well in- 
formed, by their spies, of his every movement, suffered 
him to approach almost to their very gates without 
molestation. When he o:ot in the neio;hborhood of the 
fort, he posted himself on a hill overlooking it, and 
began throwing up Intrenchments in full view of the 



246 THE FARMER BOY. 

garrison. As if all this were not imprudence enough, 
and as if bent on provoking the enemy to come out and 
give him battle on the instant, whether or no, he sent 
down a party of observation to spy out yet more nar- 
rowly the inside plan and defences of the fort ; who 
were suifered not only to do this, but even to burn a 
house just outside the walls, and then retm^n to their 
intrenchments, without a hostile sign betokening the 
unseen foe so silent yet watchful within. 

Early the next morning, as if to give the enemy 
warning of the threatened danger, the drums of the 
regulars beat the reveille, and the bagpipes of the 
Hiirhlanders woke the forest-echoes for and wide with 
their wild and shrilly din. All this time, not a gun 
had been fired from the fort. The deathly silence 
that reigned within was mistaken for fear, and made 
the fool-hardy Grant so audacious as to fancy that he 
had but to raise his finger, and the fort must fall. 
As Braddock's day had begun with martial parade 
and music, so likewise did this. As on that day the 
regulars were sent in advance, while the Virginians 
were left in the rear to guard the baggage, so was 
likewise done on tliis. On this day, as on that, not 
an enemy was to be seen, till, all of a sudden, a quick 
and heavy firing was opened upon them by Indians 
lurking in ambush on either side ; while, at the same 
moment, the French flung open their gates, and, 
rushing out, mingled their loud shouts with the hor- 
rid yells of their savage allies. On this day, as had 



MORE BLUNDERING. 247 

been done on that, the regulars, surprised, bewil- 
dered, panic-stricken, were thrown at once into dis- 
order, and began firing their pieces at random, killing 
friend as well as foe. Unlike them, however, the 
Highlanders stood their ground lil^e men, and, fight- 
ing bravely, cheered each other with their slogan, or 
wild battle-cry. On this day, as on that, the Vir- 
ginians came up in the very nick of time to rescue the 
helpless regulars from utter destruction. On this, as 
on Braddock's day, the Indians, seeing the hopeless 
confusion into which the English had fallen, rushed 
out from their ambush with yells of triumph, and fell 
upon them, tomahawk and scalping-knife in hand. 
Major Lewis, the brave leader of the Virginians, 
fought hand to hand with a tall warrior, whom he 
laid dead at his feet ; but, soon overpowered by num- 
bers, he was forced to surrender himself to a French 
oflScer, who received his sword. The blustering 
Grant, more lucky than the headstrong Braddock, 
saved his life by yielding himself up in like man- 
ner. 

And now the rout became general, and the slaugh- 
ter dreadful. Seeing the unlooked-for turn affairs 
had taken, Capt. Bullitt, whom Major Lewis had 
left to guard the baggage, gathered a few of his 
brave Virginians about him, and prepared to make a 
desperate stand. Sending back the strongest horses 
with the baggage, he blocked up the road with the 
wagons, and, behind the barricade thus formed, posted 



248 THE FARMER BOY. 

his men, to whom he gave a few brief orders how to 
act. These scanty preparations were hardly made, 
when the Indians, having finished the work of plun- 
der, had sprung Into swift pursuit, and were now 
close upon them, the wild woods ringing with their 
terrible whoops and yells. Wlien they had come 
within short rifle-range, Capt. Bullitt and his men 
met them with a well-aimed volley of musketry from 
behind the shelter of their wagons ; which, however, 
checked the savages but for a moment. Eallying on 
the instant, they were pressing forward in still greater 
numbers ; when Capt. BuUitt held out a signal of 
surrender, and came out ft'om behind the barricade at 
the head of his men, as if to lay down their arms : 
but no sooner were they within eight yards of the 
enemy, and near enough to see the fierce light that 
shone in their eyes, than they suddenly levelled their 
pieces, and poured a murderous fire into the tliickest 
of them ; then, charging bayonets, scattered them In 
every direction, and sent them yelling with astonish- 
ment and dismay. Before they could rally again, and 
renew the pursuit, Capt. Bullitt, having picked up 
many more of the fugitives, began a rapid but orderly 
retreat. 

For several days thereafter, the fugitives, singly or 
in squads, came straggling into camp at Loyal Han- 
non. Of the eight hundred picked men who had been 
sent out with such good promise of success, twenty 
officers and two hundred and seventy-three privates 



MOKE BLUNDERING. 249 

had been left behind, either killed or taken prisoners. 
The whole force of the enemy, French and Indians, 
did not exceed that of the English ; their loss in the 
battle is not known ; but, as the Higlilanders fought 
well and the Virginians fought well, it must have 
been heavy. The disaster foreboded by Washing- 
ton had thus in reality fallen upon them. He was 
at Raystown when the dismal tidings came ; and, 
although complimented by Gen. Forbes upon the 
bravery his rangers had displayed, was deeply grieved 
and mortified. In secret, many a man would have 
been gratified at beholding a prophecy he had uttered 
thus fulfilled ; but Wasliington, incapable of such self- 
ish and unnatural vanity, could but sorrow thereat, 
although it must needs increase his reputation for 
foresight and sagacity. ' As the only good thing that 
came fi-om this defeat, I must tell you (and you will 
be glad to hear it) that Capt. Bulhtt was rewarded 
with a major's commission for the gallant and sol- 
dierly conduct he had shown on that disastrous day 
in the midst of such fearful perils. 

It was not until the middle of November that the 
whole army came up to Loyal Hannon, a little dis- 
tance beyond Laurel Hill. Winter was coming on 
apace. What with rain and snow and frost, the roads 
would soon be rendered impassable, not only to 
wheeled carriages, but to pack-horses also. Fifty 
miles of unbroken wilderness lay between them and 
Fort Duquesne, — so long the goal of their hopes and 

11* 



250 THE FARMER BOY. 

toils, that seemed to recede as they advanced, Hke some 
enchanted castle we have read of before now in books 
of fauy tales, that poor benighted travellers never 
reach, although, in fancy, every step they take brings 
them nearer. The leaders began to talk seriously of 
going into winter-quarters at that place until the re- 
turn of spring ; and it seemed as if another of Wash- 
ington's prophecies were hkely to be fulfilled. But, 
about tliis time, two prisoners fi'om Fort Duquesne 
were brought into camp ; from whom they di*ew such 
an account of the weakness of the French, and the 
discontent and daily desertions of their Indian alHes, 
as determined them to push forward without further 
delay, in spite of the wintry weather, and, at one fell 
blow, make a finish of the campaign. So, leaving 
beliind them their tents and baggage, and taking with 
them but a few pieces of hght artillery, they once 
more resumed their toilsome march. Col. Wash- 
ington was ordered to go on in advance with a part 
of his detachment, to throw out scouts and scouting 
parties, who were to scour the woods in every direc- 
tion, and thereby prevent the possibihty of an ambus- 
cade. This new arrangement, which showed that 
Gen. Forbes had the wisdom to profit by the folly of 
those who had gone before him, was a signal proof 
of the high esteem in which provincial troops were at 
last beginning to be held ; and to which, by their 
courage, skill, and hardihood, they had, even years 
before, won so just a title. 



MORE BLUNDERING. 251 

'WTien within a few miles of the French fort, the 
road began to show signs of the late disaster. Here 
and there were to be seen the blackened and mansfled 
bodies of men, who, wliile fleeing for their lives, had 
been overtaken, and cut down by the murderous toma- 
hawk ; or, exhausted from the loss of blood, had 
there, by the lonely wayside, laid them down to die 
of their wounds. As they advanced, these ghastly 
tokens of defeat and massacre were to be met with at 
shorter and shorter intervals, till at length they lay 
thickly scattered about the ground. 

Being now in close neighborhood with the enemy, 
the English moved with even greater caution and 
wariness than before ; for they had every reason to 
suspect, that, as he had suffered them to come thus far 
without molestation, he meant to meet them here, under 
shelter of his stronghold, with a resistance all the more 
determined. When come in sight, however, what 
was their surprise, instead of beholding the high ram- 
parts and strong walls, grim and frowning with can- 
non, which they had pictured to their minds, to find 
a heap of blackened and smoking ruins ! 

Deserted by his Indian allies, thi-eatened with fa- 
mine, cut off from all hope of aid from the North 
(^here the English were everywhere gaining ground) , 
and with a force of but five hundred men wherewith 
to defend the post against ten times that number, 
the French general had seen that the attempt to hold 
it would be but folly ; and, like a prudent officer, had 



252 THE FARMER BOY. 

resolved to abandon it as his only chance of safety. 
Waiting, therefore, until the English were within a 
day's march of the place, he blew up the magazine, 
set fire to the works, and, embarking in his bateaux 
by the light of the flames, retreated down the 
Ohio. 

Col. Washington, still leading the advance, was 
the first to enter ; and, with his own hand plant- 
ing the British banner on the still smoiddering heaps, 
took formal possession thereof in the name of his 
Britannic majesty. King George the Second. And 
thus this stronghold of French power in the Ohio 
Valley, so long the pest and terror of the border, 
fell without a blow. Under the name of Fort Pitt, 
it was soon rebuilt, and garrisoned with two hundred 
of Washington's men ; and, from that time to the 
war of the Bevolution, it was held by the English, 
chiefly as a trading-post ; and hence the dingy, 
smoky, noisy, thriving, fast young city of Pittsburg. 

They now had leisure to pay the last sad duty to 
the dead who had fallen in the two defeats of Brad- 
dock and Grant. For three long years, the bodies of 
Braddock's slauohtered men had lain without Chris- 
tian burial, bleaching in the sun of as many summers, 
and shrouded in the snows of as many winters. 
Mingled with the bones of oxen and horses, or half 
hidden in heaps of autumn leaves, they lay scattered 
about the stony hillsides, — a spectacle ghastly in- 
deed, and most melancholy to behold. With many 



MORE BLUNDEIilXG. 253 

a sigh of pity for the hapless dead, and many a shud- 
der of dark remembrance on the part of those who 
had been present at the scenes of rout and massacre, 
they gathered together the blackened corpses of 
Grant's men and the whitened bones of Braddock's 
men, and, digging a huge pit, buried them in one 
common grave. In this pious duty all took part 
alike, from the general down to the common soldier. 

With the fall of Fort Duquesne, ended, as Wash- 
ington had years ago foreseen, the troubles of the 
Western and Southern frontiers, and with it the power 
so long held by the French in the Ohio Valley. The 
Indians, with that fickleness of mind peculiar to 
savage races, now hastened to offer terms of amity 
and peace to the party whom the fortunes of war 
had left uppermost. 

Having done his part, and so large a part, towards 
the restoration of quiet and security to his native 
province, the cherished object of his heart, for which 
he had so faithfully and manfully struggled, Wash- 
mgton resolved to bring his career as a soldier to a 
close. In his very soul, he was sick and weary of 
strife, and longed for peace. The scenes of violence 
and bloodshed had become loathing and painful to 
him beyond the power of words to tell ; and, now 
that his country had no longer need of his services, 
he felt that he could, without reproach, retire to the 
tranquil shades of private life he loved so much, and 
had looked forward to with such earnest longings. 



254 THE FARMER BOY. 

He therefore, at the end of the year, gave up his 
commission, and left the service, followed by the 
admiration and affection of his soldiers, and the ap-. 
plause and gratitude of his fellow-countrymen. 

With the fall of Quebec in the course of the fol- 
lowing year (1759) , this long and eventful Old Frencj^ 
War was brought to a close, and French empire in 
America was at an end. 



XXII. 

WASHINGTON AT HOME. 

HAVING done aU that a brave and prudent man 
could for his country's welfare, Col. Washing- 
ton now lost no time, you may depend upon it, in 
doing what every wise and prudent man should for 
his own : by. which you are to understand, that on 
the sixth day of January, 1759, when he wanted but 
a few weeks of completing his twenty-seventh year, 
he was joined in the holy bonds of marriage -wdth 
Mrs. Martha Custis, the blooming and lovely young 
widow, and mother of the two interesting little chil- 
dren, — to all of whom you had a shght introduction 
a short time ago. 

The nuptials were celebrated at the White House, 
the home of the bride, in the presence of a goodly 
company of stately dames and fine old gentlemen, fair 
maidens and handsome youth, — the kith and kin and 
loving friends of the wedded pair. Had some belated 
traveller been overtaken by the Httle hours of that 
night, as he chanced to pass that way, he might have 
guessed, from the soft, warm light that shone from all 
of the many windows, and sounds of sweet music that 

[255] 



256 THE FARMEE BOY. 

came through the open doors, mingled with peals of 
joyous laughter, and the light tripping of numerous 
feet in the merry dance, that it must be a much- 
beloved and fortunate couple indeed that could di-aw 
together so happy and brilliant a tlu'ong under that 
hospitable roof. Had this same belated traveller 
wanted further proof of this, he had but to tm'n a 
little aside, and take a peep into the negro quarters, 
where he would have seen the colored folks in a jubilee 
over the grand occasion, and, to all appearances, quite 
as jolly as if the wedding had been an affair of their 
ovm. getting-up, and in which each son and daughter 
of ebony had a personal interest. He would have 
seen them feasting on the abundant leavings that came 
down from the great house, till their faces shone 
again ; and dancing to the music of Bishop Braddock's 
fiddle in a fashion all their own, and nobody's else. 

First and foremost among these, with his wool 
combed the highest, liis breeches the reddest, and man- 
ners the genteelest, might have been spied Black Jerry 
(who, when a negroling, had been saved fi-om a 
thrashing by little George, as you well remember), 
showing off his heels to the envy of all male and the 
admiration of all female beholders. This last, it is 
but fan' to say, is merely a fancy sketch of your Uncle 
Juvinell's, conjured up by recollections of certain long 
talks he often had, when a boy, with Black Jerry 
himself, at that time a very old negTo of most excel- 
lent morals, who never failed, when liis honored 



WASHINGTON AT HOME. 257 

master's name was mentioned, to show his yellow 
ivory, and, for very respect, uncover his head, the 
wool of which was then as white as a Merino ram's. 

This joyous event having passed thus happily off, 
Col. Washington, a short time after, repaired to 
Williamsburg to take his seat in the Virginia Legis- 
lature, or House of Burgesses as it was then called, 
to wliich he had bfeen elected while absent on the last 
campaign ; without, however, any particular desire or 
effort on his part, but by that of his numerous friends. 
Hardly had his name been enrolled as a member of 
that honorable body, when Mr. Robinson, Speaker 
of the House, by previous agreement arose and ad- 
dressed him In a short but eloquent speech ; thank- 
ing him, in the name of the rest, for the many and 
valuable services he had rendered his country during 
the past five years, and setting forth the gratitude 
and esteem with which he was regarded by his fellow- 
countrymen. Surprised out of his usual composure 
and self-possession by the honor thus unexpectedly 
done him, Washington, upon rising to thank the House, 
could only blush, stammer, and stand trembling, 
without the power to utter a single word. Seeing 
his painful embarrassment, Mr. Robinson hastened 
to his relief by saying with a courteous smile, " Sit 
down, Mr. Washington : your modesty equals your 
valor ; and that surpasses the power of any language 
I possess." From that time till near the breaking- 
cut of the Revolution, — a period of fifteen years, — 



258 THE FARMER BOY. 

he remained an active and influential member of this 
body ; being returned from year to year by the united 
voice of the good people whose district he represented. 
Always thorough in whatever he undertook, he rested 
not until he had made liimself master of eveiy point 
and question touching the duties of his new office ; 
and, for method, promptness, prudence, and sagacity, 
soon proved himself quite as good a civilian as he had 
been a soldier. 

Early in the following spring, his first session 
ended, he betook himself to the sweet retirement of 
Mount Yernon ; w^iere, cheered by the company of his 
beautiful young wife and her interesting httle children, 
he once more resumed those peaceful pursuits and 
innocent amusements to w^hich he had looked forward 
with such bright anticipations amidst the perils and 
hardships of a soldier's life. War, as war, had 
already, young and ardent as he was, lost for him its 
charms ; and he had learned to look upon it as a hard 
and terrible necessity, ever to be avoided, except in 
cases where the safety of his country should demand 
it as a last desperate remedy. Unlike most men of 
a bold and adventurous disposition, he all his life long 
took the greatest pleasure in the pursuits of a hus- 
bandman ; and, to his manner of thinking, there was 
no lot or calling in life so happy, and none more hon- 
orable. Having now ample time for the indulgence 
of his tastes, he set about improving and beautifying 
his plantations, of which he had several, in the most 



WASHINGTON AT HOME. 259 

approved style of that day. He planted orchards of 
various fi'uits ; set his hillsides in grass ; drained his 
marshes, and turned them into rich meadow-lands ; 
built mills and blacksmith-shops ; enlarged his family 
mansion to a size better befitting his elegant and hos- 
pitable style of living ; adorned the grounds about it 
with shrubbery, trees, and gardens ; and converted the 
wild woods hard by into open and verdant parks. To 
his negro slaves he was the kindest of masters ; ever 
mindful of their comfort, and extremely careful of 
them in sickness. Beins: of industrious habits him- 
self, he would not make the least grain of allowance 
for sloth or idleness in them, or indeed in any one 
about him, but was strict in exacting of them the 
speedy and full performance of their allotted tasks ; 
which, however, he always took care should come 
under rather than up to the measure of their strength. 
In his business habits, he was methodical to a nicety ; 
kept his own books, and was his own overseer : for, 
having a strong aversion to being waited on, he never 
suffered others to do for him what he could do for 
himself. He kept a close and clear account, in writ- 
ing, of the profits arising from the grain, tobacco, and 
other produce of his lands ; and also the amount of 
his personal, household, and plantation expenses : by 
which means he could tell at a glance whether he 
were on the making or losing order, and readily detect 
whether any of whom he had deahngs were given to 
careless or dishonest practices. So superior was the 



260 THE FARMER BOY. 

quality of every thing produced on his estate, and so 
widely known did he become for his honesty and 
uprightness in all business transactions, that, in time, 
a box of tobacco or a barrel of flour marked " George 
Washington, Mount Vernon, Va.," would be received 
into many foreign ports without the custom-house 
authorities opening or inspecting it. 

He was an early riser. In winter, getting up be- 
fore day, and lighting his own fire, he wrote or read 
two or three hours by candle-light. After a frugal 
breakfast of two small cups of tea and four small 
cakes of Indian meal, he mounted liis horse, and rode 
about his plantations ; seeing to -every tiling with his 
own eye, and often lending a helping hand. This 
duty done, he returned to the house at noon, and 
dined heartily, as well beseemed the active, robust 
man that he was, yet never exceeding the bounds of 
temperance and moderation both as to eating and 
drinking. His afternoons he usually devoted to the 
entertainment of his numerous guests, who thronged 
his hospitable mansion almost daily, and, if from a 
distance, abiding there for weeks together. After 
a supper frugal as his breakfast, if there was no 
company in the house, he would read aloud to his 
family from some instructive and entertaining book, 
or from the newspapers of the day ; and then, at 
an early hour, retire to his room for the night. 

Fish and game abounded in the woods and streams 
of his domain, as well as in those of the adjoining 



WASHINGTON AT HOME. 261 

plantations ; and he was thus enabled to indulge his 
fondness for angling and hunting to the utmost, 
whenever he felt so inclined. Two or three times a 
week, the shrill ^vinding of the hunter's horn and the 
deep-mouthed baying of the fox-hounds would ring 
out on the clear morning air ; when he might be seen 
at the head of a brilliant company of mounted hunters, 
dashing over the fields, across the streams, and through 
the woods, hot on the heels of some unlucky Reynard. 
I should not say unlucky, however ; for although 
Washington was as bold and skilful a rider as could 
be found in thirteen provinces, and kept the finest of 
horses and finest of dogs, yet, for all that, he could 
seldom boast of any great success as a fox-hunter. 
But having the happy knack of making the best and 
most of every thing, be it toward or untoward, he 
always consoled himself with the reflection, that, if 
they had failed to catch their fox, they at least had 
their sport and a deal of healthful exercise ; which, 
after all, should be the only object of fox-hunting. 
On such occasions, he was either joined by the neigh- 
boring gentry, or by such guests as chanced at the 
time to be enjoying the hospitalities of Mount Ver- 
non. Among the'se, it was not unusual to find old 
Lord Fairfax, the friend and companion of his strip- 
ling days, who would come down from Greenway 
Court several times a year, with a long train of hunt- 
ers and hounds, and by his presence double the mirth 
and cheer of all the country-side for miles and miles 



262 THE rAR]VIER BOY. 

around. The fate of poor Reynard being duly settled, 
they would repair either to Mount Vernon, or to the 
residence of any one else of the party that chanced to 
be nearest, and wind up the sports of the day by a 
hunting-dinner, at which they were usually favored 
with the company of the ladies. At such times, 
Washington is said to have entered so keenly into 
the general hilarity, as to quite lay aside his accus- 
tomed gravity and reserve, and show liimself almost 
as jovial as the merry old lord himself. Speaking of 
these amusements, brings to mind an anecdote of him, 
which I must tell you, as it will give you a still more 
lively idea of the promptness and decision with which 
he was wont to act whenever occasion demanded. 

In those old-fashioned times, among many other 
laws that would seem odd enough to us at the present 
day, there were many very strict and severe ones for 
the protection of game, which made poaching (that 
is to say, hunting on private grounds without leave 
or license from the owner) no less a crime than theft, 
and punished the poacher as a tliief accordingly. 
Now, there was a certain idle, worthless fellow, 
notorious for his desperate character, as being the 
most daring poacher in seven counties, who was 
known to be much in the habit of trespassing on the 
grounds belonging to Mount Yemon. This had been 
forbidden him by Washington, who had warned him 
of the consequences if he did not cease his depreda- 
tions, and keep at a safe distance ; but to this the 



WASHINGTON AT HOME. 203 

sturdy vagrant gave little heed. He would cross over 
the river in a canoe, wliich he would hide, in some 
secret nook best known to himself, among the reeds 
and rushes that fringed the banks, and with his fowl- 
ing-piece make ruinous havoc among the canvas-back 
ducks that flocked in great multitudes to the low 
marsh-lands of that region. 

One day, as Washington was going his accustomed 
rounds about the plantations, he heard the report of 
a gTin in the neighborhood of the river ; and, guessing 
what was in the wind, he forthwith spm-red his horse 
in that direction, and, dashing through the bushes, 
came upon the culprit, just as he, paddle in hand, 
was pushing from the shore. The fellow, seeing his 
danger, cocked his gun, and, with a threatening look, 
levelled it directly at Washington, who, without 
heeding this in the least, rode into the water, and, 
seizing the canoe by the painter, dragged it ashore. 
Leaping then from his horse, he wrenched the fowl- 
ing-piece from the astonished poacher, and fell to 
belaboring him in so clean and handsome a manner, 
as to make the unlucky wight heartily wish he had 
the wide Potomac between him and the terrible man 
whose iron grasp was then on his collar. My word 
for it, he never trespassed again on those forbidden 
grounds ; and I dare be sworn, he never saw or ate 
or smelt a canvas-back thereafter, without feehnof a 
lively smarting up and down under his jacket, and, 
it may be, his buckskin breeches too. It was not 



264 THE FAEMER BOY. 

that a few dozen or even a hundred ducks had been 
shot on his premises, that Washington was thus 
moved to chastise this fellow ; but that, in spite of 
wholesome warnings, he should go on breaking the 
laws of the land with such impunity ; and also, that, 
instead of seeking to earn an honest livelihood by the 
labor of his hands, he should prefer rather to Hve in 
idleness, and gain a bare subsistence by such paltry 
and unlawftd means. 

Although verging on to middle age, Washington 
was still very fond of active and manly sports, such 
as tossing the bar and throwing the sledge, wrestling, 
running, and jumping ; in all of which he had but 
few equals, and no superiors. Among other stories 
of his strength and agility, there is one which you 
may come across some day in the course of your 
reading, relating how that, at a leaping-match, he 
cleared twenty-two feet seven inches of dead level 
turf at a single bound. 

Notwithstanding his modesty and reserve, he took 
much pleasure in society, and ever sought to keep up 
a free and social interchange of visits between his 
family and those of his neighbors. Besides their fine 
horses and elegant carriages, he, and others of the old 
Virginia gentry of that day whose plantations lay 
along the Potomac, kept their own barges or pleasure- 
boats, wliich were finished and fitted up in a sump- 
tuous style, and were sometimes rowed by as many 
as six negro men, all in neat uniforms. In these. 



WASHINGTON AT HOME. 265 

they, with their wives and children, would visit each 
other up and down the river ; and often, after length- 
ening out their calls far into the night, would row 
home by the light of the moon, which, lending charms 
that the sun had not to the tranquil flow of the wind- 
ing stream, and to the waving woods that crowned 
the banks on either hand, caused them often to linger, 
as loath to quit the enchanting scene. A few weeks 
of the winter months were usually spent by Mr. and 
Mrs. Washington either at Williamsburg or at An- 
napohs, then, as now, the capital of Maryland, where 
was to be found the best society of the provinces, and 
of which they were the pride and ornament. Here 
they entered into the gayeties of the season, such as 
dinners and balls, with much real rehsh ; and, if the 
theatre added its attractions to the rest, Washington 
always made it a point to attend, as the entertainments 
there offered were of the sort that afforded him much 
dehght. Nor was he loath to join in the dance ; and 
your Uncle Juvinell, when a boy, had the rare for- 
tune of meeting, now and then, with stately old 
dames, who had been belles in their days, and could 
boast of having had him for a partner ; but, at the 
same time, they were wont to confess, that they were 
generally too much overawed by the gravity and dig- 
nity of his demeanor to feel entirely at their ease in 
his company, however flattered they may have been 
at the honor, which he, in his modesty, so httle 
dreamed he was doing them. 

12 



266 THE FAKMER BOY. 

Washington's marriage was never blessed with chil- 
dren ; but he was all that a father could be to those 
of Mrs. Washington, whom he loved and cherished as 
tenderly as if they had been his own. As their guar- 
dian, he had the care of their education, and also the 
entire control of the immense fortune, amounting, in 
negroes, land, and money, to nearly two hundred thou- 
sand dollars, left them by their father, Mr. George 
Custis ; and lovingly and faithfully did he discharge 
this sacred and delicate trust. Of these two children, 
the daughter (who was the younger of the two) died, 
in early maidenhood, of consumption. She had been 
of a slender constitution from her childhood ; but, for 
all that, her death was an unexpected stroke, and was 
long and deeply mourned by Mrs. Washington and her 
husband. He is said to have been absent during her 
illness ; but, returning a short time before she breathed 
her last, was so overcome with pity and tenderness 
upon seeing the sad change wrought in so brief a 
space by this dreadful disease in her fair young face 
and dehcate form, that he threw himself upon his knees 
by her bedside, and, in a passionate burst of grief, 
poured out a fervent prayer for her recovery. The 
son now became the sole object of parental love and 
sohcitude ; and being, like his sister, of frail and 
uncertain health, was a source of much affectionate 
anxiety to his step-father as well as to his mother. 

Both Mr. and Mrs. Washington were members of 
the Episcopal Church, and persons of the truest Chris- 



WASHINGTON AT HOME. 267 

tian piety. Every sabbath, when the roads and wea- 
ther permitted, they attended divine worship either at 
Alexandria or at a church in their own neighborhood, 
and always took part in the religious exercises of the 
day with earnest and solemn devotion. In addition 
to the many charms of mind and person already men- 
tioned, Mrs. Washington was a woman of great 
benevolence, and spent much of her time in acts of 
kindness and charity, which won her the love and 
gratitude of every poor family in the country 
around. 

Thus passed away fifteen tranquil years, — the 
white days of Washington's life. When we behold 
him as he was then, in the full strength and beauty 
of his ripened manhood, possessed of one of the hand- 
somest fortunes in America, living in the bountiful 
and elegant style of those hospitable times, the pride 
and honor of his native province, the object of applause 
and gratitude to his fellow-countrymen, and of es- 
teem and love to all whose privilege it was to call him 
friend ; and, above all, blessed, in the partner of his 
choice, with a woman gifted with every grace and 
virtue that can adorn her sex, — when we behold him 
thus, well may we exclaim, " Yerily, here was a man 
favored of Heaven in a special manner, and blessed 
beyond the lot of common mortals here below." But 
the clouds were gathering, and had long been gather- 
ing, that were soon to burst in storm and tempest 
over that happy and rising young land, and force him 



26S THE FAHMER BOY. 

for many, many weary years from those, his loved 
retreats and peaceful pursuits, upon a wider, nobler 
field of action, wherein he was -to play a part that 
should, in fine, win for him the name so dear to every 
American heart, — Father of his Country. 



xxm. 

A FA3IILY QUARREL. 

" A ND now, Dannie, mend the fire with another 
jLjl. Christmas log. You, Willie, open the windows 
at top and bottom, to let out the smoke the young 
historian will be sure to raise. Laura, my dear, trim 
the lamp ; and you, Ella, — will you have the kindness 
to put a little sugar in yoiu* uncle's cider ? — there's a 
darling ! Ned, my boy, just tumble sleepy-headed 
CharHe there out of his comfortable nap, and touse 
him into his waking senses again. All right? Now 
I would have every one of you put your thinking-caps 
square and tight upon your heads, and keep all 
your ears about you ; for, depend upon it, what I am 
now going to tell you is so full of hard points and 
tough knots, that, should you but lose the crossing of 
a ^ t,' or even the dotting of an * i,' thereof, all the 
rest will be to you as so much hifalutin transcendental- 
ism." (Here Uncle Juvinell took a gigantic swallow 
of cider, and pronounced the sugar a decided improve- 
ment ; while the little folks wrote something on their 
slates, very long, and which no two of them spelt 

[269] 



270 , THE FARMER BOY. 

alike. Uncle Juvlnell smacked his lips, and then 
resumed.) 

Now, you must know, my dear cliildren, that Great 
Britain, at the time of which we are speaking, was, 
and for many years had been, and, in fact, still is, 
and, in all human likehhood, will ever continue to be, 
burdened with a mountain-load of debt, which has 
already given her a frightful stoop in the shoulders, 
and may, in time, grow to such an enormous bulk as 
to break her sturdy old back outright. She had, 
as you have seen, added all French America to her 
dominions ; but with this increase of power and glory, 
that made her king and nobles smile and sing with 
joy, came' also an increase of debt and trouble, that 
made her common people scowl and growl with want 
and discontent. The expenses of the late war with 
France had added the weight of another ^tna or 
Sinai to the already staggering load that chafed her 
back ; and, sorely grieved thereat, she began casting in 
her mind what might be done to lighten it a little. 

"My young Colonies," said our mother to herself, 
"which were planted by my love so many years ago, 
have grown to a goodly size, and prospered in a won- 
derful manner, under my fostering care, for which 
they owe me many thanks ; and, being quite old and 
strong enough, must now repay it by taking their due 
share of my heavy burden." 

Now, in all this, our mother did but deceive her- 
self: for these Colonies had been planted by her 



A FAMILY QUARREL. 271 

oppression, not by her love ; they had grown by 
her neglect, not by her fostering care. Therefore, 
they did not, as she pretended, owe her either love or 
thanks, although they gave her both ; and she had no 
right to make them carry her burden without their 
consent. Strange as it may appear, these infant Colo- 
nies loved their mother to distraction, in spite of her 
unmotherly treatment of them ; and would have gone 
any length to serve her, — even to the extent of bear- 
ing double the burden she would have laid on them, 
— had she been wise enough to consult their wishes 
about the matter, and suffer them to lay it on their 
own shoulders, in their own fashion, and of their own 
free will. To this the perverse old mother would not 
listen for a moment ; and, without pausing to reflect 
what might be the consequences, took an ^tna or a 
Sinai from the load on her owti shoulders, and clapped 
it on those of her children, who sat down under it 
plump, and stm^dily refused to budge until they should 
be allowed to put it there themselves. Whereupon, 
this stiff'- necked, wrong-headed old Britannia (for 
such was her Christian name) was exceeding wroth, 
made an outlandish noise among the nations, and even 
went so far (you will be shocked to hear) as to swear 
a little. Seeing there was no help for it but to re- 
move this -^tna, she did so with as good a grace as 
could be expected in a family-quarrel ; but was so 
indiscreet and short-sighted as 'still to leave a very 
small bm'den, — a mere hillock indeed, — just by 



272 THE FARMER BOY. 

way, as she said, of showing that she had the right to 
load and unload them when and how it suited her 
sovereign pleasure best. 

Now, be it known, it was not the burden they had 
to carry of which these generous and high-spirited 
Colonies complained so bitterly ; but that they should 
be denied the right of freely judging when and how 
and wherefore they were to be taxed, — a right that 
had been the pride and boast of Enghshmen time out 
of mind. As for the matter of the burden, had that 
been all, they could have danced, ay, and blithely 
too, under ^tna and Sinai both, had the load but 
been of their own choosing, of their own putting-on, 
and of their own adjusting. 

To add to their distress and humiliation, this 
hardest and unnaturalest of mothers now set over 
them judges, who were strangers to them, and loved 
them not ; who were to hold their places, not, as 
theretofore, during good behavior, but at her will and 
pleasure. Another right, as dear to Enghshmen as 
life itself, was taken from them, — to wit, the right 
of trial by jury ; which gave every person, great or 
small, suspected or known to be guilty of any crime 
against the laws of the land, the privilege of a speedy 
trial, in open court, in the place where the crime may 
have been committed, and by a jury of honest and 
impartial men. Instead of this, the person accused 
was to be taken aboard some ship-of-war, Hkely as 
not a thousand miles from Christian land, and there 



A FAMILY QUARREL. 273 

tried by some authorities of the navy, who would know 
but little, and must needs care still less, concerning 
the person under trial, or his offence. 

Under these and many other oppressions and inju- 
ries, the young Colonies groaned grievously. But, 
for all that, they were not to be subdued or broken. 
Time and again, they sent petitions to this unkindest 
and wllfulest of mothers, beseeching her, in humble 
and loving and dutiful terms, to remove- this degrading 
burden from their shoulders, and once more receive 
them as children into her maternal bosom ; warning 
her, at the same time, of what must be the melancholy 
consequences, if she hearkened not to their prayers. 
Then was the time, if ever, when, by a few kind 
words betokening a desire for reconciliation, she 
might have secured and made fast the love of these de- 
voted and affectionate children for ever ; and, had she 
l)een as wise as she was powerful, even so would 
she have done. But, like the Egypt of olden times, 
she did but harden her heart against them all the 
more, even to the hardness of the nether mill-stone ; 
and only sought how she could the more easily grind 
them into obedience and submission. She had grown 
to be mighty among the nations, this Britannia. 
Her armed legions told of her power by land ; her 
ships of war and her ships of commerce whitened a 
hundred seas. The great sun, that set on every king- 
dom of the known earth, she boasted never went 
down on her dominion. Wherefore was she swollen 

12* 



274 THE FAEAIER BOY. 

and big with pride, and from a high place looked 
haughtily down upon the little nations at her feet. 
What height of presumption was it, then, in these 
insignificant young Colonies, strugghng for bare exist- 
ence off there on the uttermost edges of the civihzed 
earth, thus to hft themselves against her sovereign 
will, and dare dispute her high decrees ! It was not 
to be borne : she would humble them for this pre- 
sumption, chastise them for their disobedience, and 
show them what a terrible thing it was to provoke her 
wrath. Her heart thus steeled to mercy, she stayed 
not her hand, but sent her hosts of armed men in her 
fleets of armed ships, to lay her heavy yoke, and fit 
it firm and fast on the necks of her rebellious chil- 
dren. 

Beholding this, and that it were vain to hope for 
reconcihation, the Colonies, with one voice, with one 
indignant voice, exclaimed, " Now, since our mother 
seems bent on treating us as slaves and strangers, 
and not as children, then are we compelled, in our 
own defence, to treat her, not as our mother, but as 
a stranger and our enemy. And bear us witness, O 
ye nations ! how long and humbly and earnestly we 
have prayed that there should be love and peace 
between us and this our mother ; and bear us wit- 
ness also, that, although we now lift our rebelhous 
hand against her, there is no hatred in our hearts, 
even now, but rather sorrow unspeakable, that she 
should at last have dri\en us to tliis saddest, this 



A FAMILY QUARREL. 275 

dlrefulest of alternatives." Then, moved with one 
spirit (that of the love of freedom) , and bent on one 
pm-pose (that of the defence of their sacred rights), 
they rose in their young strength, and, commending 
their just cause to the God of hosts, made that last 
appeal, — which, to a brave and virtuous people, has 
ever been the last, — the appeal to arms. And so 
they did, while the nations looked on In wonder and 
applause. 



XXIV. 

THE CAUSE OF THE QUARREL. 

BUT, my childi'en, I must tell you, in other and 
perhaps plainer words, what these measures 
were that led to such momentous results, why 
resorted to, how carried out, and by whom. 

From what you have just been told, you can have 
no difficulty in guessing that Great Britain was des- 
perately in debt, and in the very mood to resort to 
desperate measures of delivering herself therefrom. 
Her being in this particular mood at that particular 
time (for it is only now and then that she has shown 
herself so unamiable) was owing chiefly to the fact, 
that she was just then under the rule, or rather 
misrule, of that narrow-minded, short-sighted, hard- 
fisted, wrong-headed man, who commonly goes in 
history by the name of King George the Third. 
Had he been the superintendent of a town work- 
house, he might perhaps have acquitted himself 
respectably enough ; or, if I may be so bold, he 
might have served a life-term as Governor of London 
Tower, and gone to his grave without any great dis- 
credit or reproach : but, in all human reason and 

[276] 



THE CAUSE OF THE QUARREL. 277 

justice, he certainly had no more business on the 
throne of England than your Uncle Juvinell himself. 
His ministers, who were of his own choosing, were 
vultures, of the same harsh, unsightly plumage, and, 
at his beck or nod, stood ready to do whatever 
knave's work he might have on hand, — even to the 
grinding of his people's bones to make his bread, 
should his royal appetite turn that way. 

With such men at the helm of State, it is no won- 
der, then, that unwise and oppressive measures should 
be resorted to for raising money, or, as it is more 
properly called in such cases, a revenue, for paying 
the debts and keeping up the expenses of the gov- 
ernment. The first pounce they made was on their 
young Colonies in America, whom they sought to 
burden with heavy taxes laid on exports, or articles 
of commerce sent out of the country, and on imports, 
or articles of commerce brought into the country. 
The principal articles thus taxed were paper, painters' 
colors, glass, sugar and molasses, and tea. The tax- 
money or revenue scraped together from the sale of 
these articles — and which made them dearer to him 
who bought and him who sold, according to the 
amount of duty laid on — was to be gathered into the 
public treasury for the purposes aforesaid. Another 
plan for raising revenue, hit upon by these ingenious 
kites, was that famous one called the " Stamp Act,'* 
the design of which was to compel the people of the 
Colonies, in order to make their business transactions 



278 THE FARMER BOY. 

good and valid, to use a certain kind of paper, hav- 
ing on it a certain stamp. Each kind of paper had 
its own particular stamp, and could only be applied 
to a certain purpose specified thereon. Thus there 
was a deed stamp-paper, the will stamp-paper, the 
note-of-hand and bill-of-exchange stamp-paper, the 
marriage stamp-paper ; and, in short, stamp-paper 
for every concern in life requmng an instrument of 
writing. The paper itself was altogether a commo- 
dity of the government, by whom it was manufac- 
tured, and sold at prices varying from a few pence 
up to many pounds sterling of good, hard English 
money, just according to the magnitude or nature 
of the business in hand. Had it gone into effect, 
it must needs have borne on the dead as well as on 
the living : for, if the last will and testament of a 
deceased and lamented relative were not written 
on paper with the proper stamp, it could not have 
been good and valid in the king's eyes ; and this would 
have led to grievous misunderstandings between the 
bereaved and affectionate heirs, and perhaps the de- 
ceased himself, in consequence, would have slept 
uneasily in his grave. 

Another oppressive measure — the design whereof, 
however, was for saving money, rather than for 
raising revenue — was that of quartering troops upon 
the country in time of peace ; by which means they 
must needs be supported to a great extent by the 
people so sponged upon. 



THE CAUSE OF THE QUARREL. 279 

But the most brilliant stroke of all was an act for- 
bidding the Colonies from trading with any foreign 
ports, and from manufacturing certain articles, lest 
the value and sale of the same articles manufactured 
in England, and to be sold in America, might be 
lowered or hindered thereby. 

I have already mentioned, how that the right of 
choosing their judges and other civil officers, and the 
right of trial by jury, had been taken from them, — 
measures that had a meanness and odium quite their 
own, as serving no end of profit, but merely as 
safety-valves, through which the royal bile might find 
vent now and then. 

Now, the good people of the Colonies, as I have 
hinted elsewhere, would not have raised the hue and 
outcry that they did against these measures, had It 
not been for one thing, which to them, as EngHsh- 
men, was all in all ; to wit, the right of taxing them- 
selves, and legislating or making laws for themselves 
through persons of their own choosing, called repre- 
sentatives. And this is, my Httle folks, what is meant 
by taxation, and legislation by representation. In a 
nation. You will do well to bear this in mind con- 
tinually ; for it is the very keystone to the arch of all 
true government. 

This right of representation, however, was denied 
them ; for what earthly reason, no one, not in the 
secret, could imagine. As the king himself was never 
able to render a reason for any thing he did, his min- 



280 THE FAKMER BOY. 

isters would not for any thing they did, and the 
parliament dared not for any thing they did. 

What could they do, then, but send petitions to the 
king, and remonstrances to the parliament, complain- 
ing of, and crying out against, their many grievances, 
and deploring and demanding that they be removed and 
redressed. Although they did this vv^ith more dignity 
and respectfulness, vrith more clearness and ability, 
than the like thing had ever been done before, or has 
been since, by any people, yet their petitions vrere 
spurned by the king, because they were just and 
manly, and he was not ; and their remonstrances went 
unheeded by the parliament, because they were wise 
and reasonable, and it was not. 

Failing to get redress for their grievances, the 
colonists resolved that the source of these same griev- 
ances should not be a source of profit to those who 
imposed them. To bring about tliis result, they, as 
one man, entered into what was called the " non- 
importation agreement," — or, in other words, an 
agreement by which they solemnly pledged themselves 
to abstain from the use of all articles burdened with a 
tax, until such tax should be removed ; and, further- 
more, that they would not buy or use any thing that 
they were forbidden to manufacture themselves ; and, 
still furthermore, that not a ship of theirs should 
trade with British ports, until the act forbidding them 
to trade with foreign ports should be repealed. Some 
of them, I dare say, would have gone so far, had 



THE CAUSE OF THE QUAKREL. 281 

that been possible, as to pledge themselves not to die, 
until the Stamp Act, compelling them to write their 
wills on stamp-paper, was also repealed. This 
agreement was so rigidly observed, that the men took 
to wearing jeans, and the women linsey-woolseys, 
which they wove in their own looms ; the old ladies 
drank sassafras-tea, sweetened with maple-sugar ; and 
old gentlemen wi'ote no wills, but declared them on 
their death-bed to their weeping families by word. of 
mouth. Whether the people stopped marrying or not, 
it is not known with certainty ; but from my know- 
ledge of human natm^e, wliich is extensive, I do not 
think I should greatly hazard my reputation as a 
historian, were I to state flatly, roundly, and emphati- 
cally, that it had not the least effect in that way. 

The days on which these measures were to go into 
effect were observed by the colonists as days of fast- 
ing, prayer, and humiliation. All business was laid 
aside, the shops were closed, the churches opened, 
and the church-bells tolled as on some funeral occa- 
sion ; and between praying at church, and fasting at 
home, and brooding over their grievances, the good 
people were very miserable indeed. Although they 
suffered great inconvenience from their observance 
of the non-importation agreement, yet they bore it 
patiently and cheerfully, like men who felt that their 
cause was just and right. But the sudden stoppage 
of the immense trade that flowed from the colonial 
ports into those of the mother-country told dreadfully 



282 THE FARMER BOY. 

on the commerce of Great Britain ; and British mer- 
chants and British manufacturers, and British people 
in general, soon began to suffer even more than the 
colonists themselves. Whereupon, a counter stream 
of petitions and remonstrances set in upon the king 
and parhament from the people at home, v^^ho declared 
that the country would be ruined, if these odious 
measures, crippling American commerce, were not 
speedily withdrawn. Said they, "If we cannot sell 
the Americans our broadcloths, our flannels, and our 
silks, the obstinate men of that country will stick to 
their jeans, and the perverse women to their linsey- 
woolseys, till we are undone for ever. In that one 
pestilent little town of Boston, our trade In silks 
alone is not so good by fifty thousand dollars a year 
as it has been heretofore : and we humbly entreat that 
our American brothers be allowed to trade with us 
and foreign nations as In days gone by ; for you must 
see by tliis time with your own eyes, that we, as a 
nation, are growing poorer every day under this state 
of tilings, Instead of richer every year as had been 
expected." 

The commissioners — that Is to say, the persons 
who had been appointed by the British Government to 
bring or receive the stamp-paper, and give It circu- 
lation throughout the Colojiies — were mobbed and 
pelted by the indignant people, whenever and wher- 
ever they made the least attempt to do their odious 
work. In consequence of this determined opposition, 



THE CAUSE or THE QUARREL. 283 

the paper never went into circulation : so it was 
stocked away in outhouses, and there left to mould 
and to be eaten by rats and mice, if their sto- 
machs were not too dainty for such vile provender. 
Thus this famous piece of ingenuity, the Stamp Act, 
had no other effect than that of giving the civilized 
world a hearty laugh, and increasing the British debt 
just so much as the paper cost, instead of lessening 
it, as its inventors, in their blind confidence, had 
•hoped. 

Beholding how utterly had failed all their pet 
schemes for raising revenue, the narrow-minded king, 
and the king-minded ministry, and the many-minded 
parliament, were, so to speak, tin-own on their 
haunches, and forced to eat their own folly ; wliich, 
I dare say, they found less palatable than their roast 
beef and plum-pudding. In other words, they re- 
pealed the Stamp Act ; with one stroke of the royal 
pen, struck off the taxes laid on the above-mentioned 
articles ; and once more gave the Colonies full liberty 
to manufacture whatsoever, and re-open commercial 
intercourse with whomsoever, they chose. And thus 
tills non-importation agreement worked like a charm : 
it brought about in a trice what petitions and remon- 
strances had failed to accomplish in years. 

When tidings came of what had been done at home, 
there was gi-eat rejoicing throughout the provinces : 
the church-bells were tolled to another tune than that 
•with which they had been tolled a short time before ; 



284 THE FAKMER BOY. 

the good people met at churcli, but this time to give 
thanks ; and went home, not to fast, but to feast ; 
and were now quite as comfortable as thej had before 
been miserable. But I have gone a little too far, 
however. There was one circumstance that greatly 
dampened the general feeling of joy, and made a 
mere thankso-ivinof of what mio^ht else have been 
a high-sounding jubilee. This was the tax on tea, 
which had not been struck off along with the rest, 
but had been suffered to remain ; not that any great 
revenue was expected to arise therefrom, but simply 
to show that they — the king and parhament — had 
not disclaimed or yielded up the right to tax and 
burden the Colonies when and how they thought fit 
and proper. This vexed the American people sorely ; 
for though the bulk of the nuisance had been taken 
away, yet all the odor still remained : or, speaking 
more plainly, the right of laying such burdens on 
themselves, of their own free will, was still denied 
them ; and this, in fact, was the very thing that made 
it so intolerable for them to bear. " Is it," said 
Washington in a letter to a friend, " the duty of three- 
pence per pound upon tea that we object to as bur- 
densome ? No ; but it is the right to lay this duty 
upon ourselves for which we contend." 

Therefore, as far as the commodity tea was con- 
cerned, the people of the Colonies still observed the 
non-importation agreement. From some of the ports, 
the sliips that had come over from England laden. 



THE CAUSE OF THE QUARREL. 285 

with this delightful plant were sent back, without 
being suffered to discharge their cargoes ; in others, 
where it had been landed, it was not allowed to be 
sold, but was stowed away in cellars and the like 
out-of-the-way places, where it moulded, or became 
the food of rats and mice, whose bowels, if we may 
trust the testimony of some of our great-grand- 
mothers, were so bound up thereby, that a terrible 
mortality set in among them, that swept them away 
by cart-loads. 

Now, the East-India Company, to whom had been 
granted the sole privilege of trading in tea for the 
space of a hundred years, if I remember rightly, 
were greatly alarmed at the consequences of the tea- 
tax. Enormous quantities of the article had begun 
to accumulate in their London warehouses, now that 
there was no market for it in America, which hitherto 
had fed the purse in their left-hand pocket, as did that 
in Great Britain the larger one in their right-hand 
pocket. " Something must be done," said they to 
themselves (they certainly said it to nobody else) , — 
*^ something must be done, or these high-spirited 
women of America will drink their wishy-washy sas- 
safras till their blood be no thicker than whey, and 
the purse in our left-hand pocket become as light 
and lean and lank as when we sent our first ship-load 
thither years ago." This "something to be done" was 
a loud petition to parliament, praying for speedy 
rehef from the ruin, which has an uncomfortable 



286 THE FARMEK" BOY. 

fashion of staring at great mercantile companies, and 
was now staring them full In the face. 

So, putting their heads together, the king and par- 
liament hit upon an Ingenious plan, by which they, 
the East-India Company, could sell their tea, and the 
government collect the duty thereon. It was this : 
The price of the article should be so far reduced, that 
it would be lower, even with the duty on it, than, at 
the usual rate of sale, without any duty at all. This 
was a brilliant scheme indeed, and would have suc- 
ceeded to admiration, had the good people of America 
been a nation of bats and geese ; but, as they were 
not, the scheme failed disgracefully, as you shall pre- 
sently see. 

By way of giving this plan a trial, a few ships 
loaded with tea were sent over to Boston, where they 
lay for some time in the harbor, without being per- 
mitted by the people to land their cargoes. One day, 
as If to show the king and ministers and parlia- 
ment, the East-India Company, and the whole British 
nation, that they, the Americans, were, and had been 
from the very beginning, desperately In earnest in all 
that they had said and done for years past, a party, 
composed of about fifty of the most sober and respect- 
able citizens of Boston and the country around, dis- 
guised themselves as Indians, and went aboard these 
ships. Not a word was to be heard among them ; 
but, keeping a grim and ominous silence, they ranged 
the vessels from stem to stern, ransacked their car- 



THE CAUSE- OF THE QUARREL. 287 

goes, broke open the tea-chests, and, pouring their 
contents into the sea, made the i&shes a dish of tea, 
which is said to have had the same effect on them as 
on the rats and mice. This done with perfect cool- 
ness and sobriety, the party returned to their homes 
as orderly and silent as they had come ; not the first 
movement towards a mob or tumult having been 
made by the people during the whole proceeding. 

This affair, commonly known in history as the 
Boston Tea-party, and which took place in 1774, 
overwhelmed his majesty with stupid astonishment, 
threw his ministers Into fits of foaming rage, fell like 
a thunder-clap upon the House of Parliament, and 
effectually demoHshed the last forlorn hope of the 
East-India Company. The spirit of resistance on the 
part of the Colonies had now been carried to such a 
length, that the home-government determined to send 
over the military to awe them by the terror of its pre- 
sence iAto obedience to their unreasonable and oppres- 
sive demands ; and, should not this be found sufficient, 
to compel them Into submission by the force of its 
arms. 

Oh, woful, woful, that ever a tyrant should live 
to keep his dragon-watch on the birth of the free- 
bom thought, the independent wish, and ere the full, 
clear light of heaven descend upon it, warming it 
into strength and beauty, to seize and crush it into 
slavish fear, and love and justice without power to 
stay his impious hand ! 



XXV. 

RESISTiJNCE TO TYRANNY. 

WITH what deep and earnest interest Washing- 
ton watched the course of these momentous 
events may be readily imagined, if we reflect how 
much of his life had been already spent in the 
service of the public, and how near he had ever 
kept the good and welfare of his native land at 
heart. 

He was not a mere looker-on, but one of those who 
had in the very beginning shown themselves ready to 
enter, heart and hand and fortune, into all just and 
lawful measures of resistance to oppression in every 
shape and form ; but, with his usual modesty, forbear- 
ing to push himself forward, which served, no doubt, 
to add to his example still greater weight and influ- 
ence, and make it all the more illustrious. He 
rigidly observed the non-importation agreement, and 
was, in fact, one of the first to propose its adoption ; 
and none of the articles therein named were to be 
seen in his house imtil the odious burdens laid thereon 
had been removed. 

|_288] 



KESISTANCE TO TYRANNY, 289 

Little or no lasting good, however, could be ex- 
pected from these, or indeed any measures, unless 
the Colonies should come to a clearer and fuller under- 
standing, one with another, touching the troubles that 
concerned all equally and alike. To bring this much- 
to-be- wished-for end about, it was resolved that a 
general assembly of all the Colonies should be called, 
wherein each province, through its representatives 
chosen by the people thereof, should have a voice. 
As the first step towards this object, conventions 
were summoned in the various provinces, the mem- 
bers whereof had the authority to choose from among 
their number those who were to be their representa- 
tives or mouth-pieces in this great Colonial Assembly, 
since knowm in history as the Old Continental Con- 
gress. 

Patrick Henry (the great American orator) , Mr. 
Pendleton, and Washington were those appointed to 
represent Virginia. Accordingly, about the middle 
of September, 1774, these three Congress-men set 
out together on horseback for Philadelpliia, the place 
of meeting. Arrived here, Washington found as- 
sembled the first talent, wisdom, and virtue of the 
land. It was to him a sublime spectacle indeed, — 
that of the people of many widely separated provinces 
thus met together to give voice and expression to 
w^hat they felt to be their sacred rights as freemen and 
free Englishmen. To add still greater solemnity to 
their proceedings, and give their cause the stamp of 

13 



290 TIIE FARiNIER BOY. 

the just and righteous cause they felt it to be, It was 
resolved to open the business of each day with prayer. 
Next morning, there came a report that Boston had 
been cannonaded by the king's troops, who had been 
stationed there for many weeks past. Although this 
afterwards turned out to be false, yet, at the time. It 
had a most beneficial effect, in drawing still nearer 
together those who but the day before had met as 
strangers, by impressing their minds w^ith a still 
deeper sense of the sacredness of the trust imposed 
on them by their country, and by bringing more 
directly home to them their common danger, and 
dependence one upon another. The minister, before 
offering up his prayer, took up the Bible to read a 
passage therefrom, and, as If providentially, opened at 
the thirty-fifth Psalm, which seemed to have been 
written expressly for this great occasion, and began 
thus : " Plead my cause, O Lord, with them that 
strive with me ; fio;ht aoainst them that fio;ht ao;aInst 
me." What wonder, then, that, under circumstances 
like these, they should feel their hearts joined together 
in stronger, holier bonds of union, as they knelt side 
by side on that memorable morning, commending 
their just cause to the Ruler of nations ? For several 
minutes after they had resumed their seats, a pro- 
found and solemn silence reigned throus^hout the 
house ; each looking the other in the face, as if uncer- 
tain how to set about the great work that had brought 
them together, and no one willing to open the As- 



RESISTANCE TO TYEAXNY. 291 

sembly. The silence was becoming painful and 
embarrassing ; when Patrick Henry at length arose, 
and began addressing the House,. at first in a falter- 
ing voice and hesitating manner, which soon, however, 
as he warmed with his subject, gave place to a bolder, 
higher strain, till, long before he had ended, the hearts 
of his hearers were thrilled with a flow of eloquence, 
the like of which none present had ever heard before ; 
and, when it ceased, each felt that he had just been 
listening to the greatest orator, not of Virginia only, 
but of all America. The burden of his declamation 
was the oppressive and unlawful system of taxation 
devised by Great Britain against her American Colo- 
nies ; the severe restriction laid on their commerce ; 
the abolition of the right of trial by jury, and of 
choosing their own judges ; the danger that must 
ever threaten their liberties, if they suffered troops of 
war to be quartered upon them in times of peace ; 
and, above all, that they should be denied the right 
of taxing themselves, of making their own laws, and 
of regulating their internal concerns, as seemed to 
their judgment wise and proper, through representa- 
tives of their own choosing. To get redress for these 
and similar grievances, was the chief, and, I may say, 
the only object for which this first Congress had been 
called ; for at that time, and for a long time after, 
no one harbored such a thought as that of breaking 
with the mother-country, with a view of achieving 
their independence. To this end, they now applied 



292 THE FAEMER BOY. 

themselves with deep and sober earnestness, and 
brought to their work all the resources that their 
wisdom and experience could command. 

The first session of the Old Continental Congress 
lasted fifty-one days. Such was the decorum with 
w^hich they conducted their proceedings, such the elo- 
quence, force, and precision with which they set forth 
their grievances, such the temperate and dignified 
tone that marked their petitions to the king, and such 
the manhness, firmness, and unwavering constancy 
with which they persisted in battling for their right 
as freemen to be represented in the councils of the 
nation, that thousands of their brothers across 
the Atlantic were filled with wonder and admiration. 

* And here, for once and for all, be it known to you, 
my dear children, and, in justice to the British nation 
as a people, never fail hereafter to bear it in mind, 

V that there were many, very many, perhaps a large 
majority, of our English uncles, who deeply sympa- 
tliized with our fathers in their troubles, and heartily 
condemned the oppressive burdens heaped upon 
them by the king and his ministers. Even in the 
House of Parliament itself were there many of the 
greatest spirits of that age, who had all along 
opposed these harsh and unjust measures of the 
government towards the Colonies, and were now so 
impressed with all that marked the proceedings of this 
first Colonial Congress, that they exerted themselves 
in behalf of their oppressed brothers in America with 



RESISTANCE TO TYKANNY. 293 

more zeal than ever before, and pleaded their cause 
in strains of eloquence that shall ring in our ears, and 
dwell in our hearts, till history shall tell us we have 
ceased to be a nation. 

And well indeed they might admire and praise ; 
for what with the eloquence of such men as Henry 
and E-utledore, the learnino* of such men as Hancock 
and Adams, the wisdom of such men as Washing- 
ton, and the pure and exalted character of them all, it 
was a body of men, the like of which had never 
before assembled together in any age or country. 

Patrick Henry, upon being asked who was the 
greatest man in the Congress, repHed, " If you speak 
of eloquence, Mr. Rutledge, of South Carolina, is by 
far the greatest orator ; but, if you speak of solid 
information and sound judgment. Col. Washington 
is, beyond all question, the greatest man on that 
floor." Had Mr. Rutledge been asked the same 
question, he would as readily have pronounced 
Patrick Henry the greatest orator, as indeed he 
was. 

Bent on one common object, encompassed by dan- 
gers that threatened all alike, and glowing with the 
same ardent and heroic spirit, they seemed for the 
time to have quite forgotten that they were the natives 
and representatives of many different and widely 
separated provinces, and to think that they were, as 
Patrick Henry happily expressed it, not Carolinians, 
not Pennsylvanians, not Virginians, so much as that 



294 THE FARMER BOY. 

they were Americans ; and had been sent there, not 
so much to represent the will and wishes of the people 
of their respective provinces, as of those of the whole 
Aniejdcan people. Thus Union became the watch- 
word throughout the Colonies. And by union alone 
were they able to make a stand against tyranny ; by 
it alone came off victorious in the end ; by it alone 
won for themselves a place among the nations ; and 
by it alone can their posterity hope to hold that place 
as a powerful, free, and happy people. 

Having done all that could be done for the pre- 
sent, the Congress was adjourned, and the members 
returned to their homes to await the result of the 
petitions and remonstrances they had sent on to the 
king and parliament. Although these were couched 
in moderate and respectful terms, expressing their 
unaltered attachment to the king and his family, 
deploring that there should be aught but peace and 
good-will between them, and entreating him not to 
drive his children to the dreadful alternative of tak- 
ing up arms in their defence, yet, like those that had 
gone before them, they were received with contempt 
or indifference, and failed to awaken in the king's 
mind any sentiment of mercy, or desire on the part 
of the parliament for reconciliation with their younger 
brothers in America. Here was the last, the golden 
opportunity, wherein, by an act of simple justice, by 
an expression of Christian kindness, they might have 
won back to obedience and love this much-injured 



RESISTANCE TO TYRANNY. 295 

people ; but under the mistaken and fatal belief that 
they were all-powerful, and that, if they yielded up 
these pretended rights, the colonists would never rest 
until they had thrown off and trampled under foot 
all authority, they suffered it to pass unheeded, lost 
for ever. 

A short time after the adjournment of Congress, 
at a second Virginia Convention, held at Richmond, 
Patrick Henry, in closing one of the grandest efforts 
he ever made, thus boldly declared his mind ; " The 
time of reconciliation is past ; the time for action is 
at hand. It is useless to send further petitions to the 
government, or to await the result of those already 
addressed to the throne. We must fight, Mr. 
Speaker : I repeat it, sir, we must fight ! An appeal 
to arms and to the God of hosts is all that is left 
us ! " The great orator did but give voice to the 
feelings and sentiments of thousands of pure patriots, 
among whom was Washington, who represented his 
district in this convention also. No one regretted 
more sincerely than he that they were thus compelled 
to take up the sword as the only remedy of their 
wrongs and grievances. In his own mind, he had 
fully resolved, if needful, to devote his life and for- 
tune to the cause ; and was willing, he told his 
brother, to arm and equip a thousand men at his own 
expense, and' lead them to the succor of Boston, at 
that time blockaded by the British fleet. Grave and 
thoughtful, and pondering deeply all these things, he 



296 THE FARMER BOY. 

went to his home ; and, In this frame of mind, the win- 
ter months passed slowly by. 

It was now apparent to all, that open hostilities 
between the Colonies and the mother-country were no 
longer avoidable ; and on the nineteenth of April, 
1775, the battle of Lexington announced to the 
world that the first blood of a desperate struggle had 
been shed, and that civil war, with all its train of 
horrors, had begun. 

When the tidings reached Mount Yernon, the im- 
pressions made on Washing^ton's mind were solemn 
and profound, if we may judge from a letter written 
at the time, in wliich he says, "Unhappy it is to 
reflect, that a brother's sword has been sheathed in a 
brother's breast, and that the once-peaceful plains of 
America are to be drenched with blood, or inhabited 
by slaves. Sad alternative ! But can a virtuous 
man hesitate in his choice ? " Early in May, as he 
was just on the eve of setting out for Philadelphia to 
take his seat in the second session of the Congress, 
news reached him of the capture of Ticonderoga by 
Col. Ethan Allen. It was a brilliant little exploit 
enough, and the very kind to raise undue expectations 
in the many, who looked no further into the future 
than to-night, when it is yet evening ; but it could 
have no other effect than to deepen the thoughtfulness 
of a mind hke Washington's, that could look through 
the glare of these accidental hits of war, and behold 
the untried perils still further beyond. 



Resistance to tykanny. 297 

As the war had now begun in earnest, so dreaded 
and deeply deplored by all the good men, as the 
only remedy left to their distress, the deliberations of 
the second Congress turned chiefly on the devising 
of means for their defence and safety. Towards this 
object, nothing effectual could be done till some per- 
son was fixed upon to be the leader of the army, 
wliich they had yet, in large measure, to raise, arm, 
and equip. 

There were not a few, who, for age, talent, experi- 
ence, fortune, and social position, as well as for the 
sacrifices they had already made to the cause, were, 
in the opinion of their friends, and perhaps in that 
of their own, justly entitled to tliis high distinction. 
After some time spent in viewing the matter in all its 
bearings, and carefully weighing the claims of each, 
without being able to fix upon a choice, John Adams 
decided the question by addressing the House to the 
following effect : That the person intrusted with a 
place of such importance to Americans must be a 
native-born American ; a man of large fortune, in 
order to give him a strong personal interest in the 
issue of the contest, and the means of carrjang it on ; 
he should be a man of military experience, and accus- 
tomed to the government of large bodies of men ; he 
should be of tried integrity and patriotism, of great 
courage and bodily endurance, and known ability ; 
and a resident of some central province, that in him 
might be blended the extreme interests of North and 

13* 



298 THE FARMER BOY. 

South, which would tend to lessen the jealousies of 
the two sections, and harmonize them, as it were, into 
one. Such a province was Virginia, and such a 
man was Col. Washington ; whom, therefore, he 
commended to the favor and consideration of the 
Honorable House. 

Before this address was ended, Washington, per- 
ceiving that he was the person on the point of being 
singled out, rose from his seat, much agitated and 
embarrassed, and hastily quitted the House. 

Next morning, Mr. Adams's recommendation was 
acted upon ; and the House, without a single dissent- 
ing voice, chose George Washington to be Com- 
mander-in-chief oi all the army of the United Colonies, 
with the salary of six thousand dollars a year. In 
his reply, Wasliington expressed his grateful sense 
of so signal a proof of the confidence reposed in him 
by his countr}Tnen, and added, — 

" But lest some unfortunate event should happen, unfa- 
vorable to my reputation, I beg that it may be remembered 
by every gentleman in this room, that I this day declare, 
with the utmost sincerity, that I do not think myself equal 
to the command I am honored with. As to pay, I beg 
leave to assure the Congress, that, as no pecuniary con- 
sideration could have tempted me to accept of this employ- 
ment at the expense of my domestic ease and happiness, 
I do not wish to make any profit of it. I will keep 
an exact account of my expenses : these, I doubt not, 
they will discharge; and that is all I desire." 



RESISTANCE TO TYRANNY. 299 

In a letter to Mrs. Washington, informing her o£ 
the great change thus made in his destiny, he deplores 
the hard necessity that makes it his duty to give 
up the sweet pleasures of home and her society ; and 
exhorts her, in affectionate language, to bear up 
under their separation with cheerfulness and fortitude ; 
at the same time giving her the gratifying assurance, 
that with her he could have more happiness at Mount 
Vernon in one month, than he could hope to find 
without her, were he to remain abroad seven times 
seven years. From the tone of this letter, she must 
readily have guessed that the place was not one of 
his own seeking. 

Accordingly, on the 21st of June, General Wash- 
ington, — for so we must now call him, — having 
received his commission, set out to take command of 
the American army, then lying before Boston, which, 
being occupied by the king's troops, was in a state of 
siege. A company of Pennsylvania light-horse es- 
corted him from Philadelpliia to New York, where he 
was received with all the honor due, not only to the 
high station he had been called to fill, but also to his 
exalted character and distinguished abilities. Here 
he heard further particulars of the battle of Bunker's 
Hill, fought near Boston a few days before. From 
New York, the general-in-chief proceeded to Boston, 
and was greeted everywhere on the way with the 
greatest "enthusiasm by the people, who came stream- 
ing in from all quarters to behold the man into 



300 THE FARMER BOY. 

whose keeping had been intrusted the destinies of 
America. 

Thus, my dear children, I have brought you, step 
by step, up to that great event in Washington's hfe 
when his character and actions were to be subjected 
to the gaze and scrutiny, not only of his own age and 
country, but of all ages to come, and of all the nations 
of Christendom. 



XXVI. 



CONCLUSION. 



HERE Uncle Juvinell paused, and, with a coun- 
tenance of undisturbed sobriety, emptied his 
ninth mug. In justice, however, to the good man, 
this pattern of old-fashioned gentility, it must be 
borne in mind, that the mug was a Dutch mug, and 
consequently a small one (as indeed are all things 
Dutch, from clocks to cheeses) ; and also that, small 
as it was, he never more than half filled it, except 
once or twice in the course of an evening, when he 
would gird up his loins, as it were, with a brimmer 
to help him over some passage in his story of unusual 
knottiness and difficulty. 

Willie (whose surname should have been fox or 
weasel or lynx) , having heretofore divided his atten- 
tion between what his uncle imparted and what he 
imbibed, had, by careful counting, discovered that the 
ninth mug invariably closed their evening lessons : so, 
without waiting for any further signal that such was 
now the case, he alertly bounced from his chair, and, 
snatching up a basket of big red apples that black 
daddy had just brought in and set on the hearth, 

[301] 



302 THE FARMER BOY. 

bejran handino^ them round to the rest of the com- 
pany with a great show of playing the polite and 
obliging, but taking care, when unobserved, to pick 
out the largest and mellowest one of them all for him- 
self, and smuggle it under liis coat-tail. When all 
were helped, he reset the basket on the hearth, and 
with a grand flourish, unmasking his royal red, 
opened wide his mouth, as if he would have bolted it 
whole : but, seeming to think better of it, he care- 
fully laid it in Uncle Juvinell's mug, which it exactly 
filled, saying as he did so, "It goes to my heart to 
part with you ; but only the king of historians is 
worthy to enjoy the queen of apples." Then, plunging 
his hand into the basket, he snatched up another, 
hap-hazard, and began eating it with savage voracity, 
as if made reckless by this act of self-denial. Re- 
seating himself as he had chosen his apple, hap-haz- 
ard, he missed his chair, and keeled over, bringing his 
heels in the air where his head should have been, and . 
his head on the rug where the dog and cat were, 
and the half-munched plug in his mouth, plump 
into his windpipe, so as to almost strangle him out of 
his breeches, and cause his buttons to fly like grains 
from a corn-cob when thro^vn into a corn-sheller. 
Of course, all the little folks fairly screamed with 
laughter, in which even Uncle Juvinell could not help 
joining right heartily : nor would he venture upon 
the broad wedge which he had cut out of his apple, 
till his chuckle was well ended ; when he remarked, 



CONCLUSION. 303 

that "Willie was one of the boys we read about." 
To which Willie, picking himself up again, replied, 
that "he rather thought he was not, just then, but 
perhaps would be as soon as he could get back some 
of the breath he had lost, and gather up the buttons 
he had shed." Then, drawing doAvn his waistcoat from 
under his arm-pits to hide a breadth of white muslin 
not usually intended for the eyes of a mixed com- 
pany, he reseated liimself with such care and circum- 
spection, that the middle seam of his breeches tallied 
exactly with the middle round of the chair-back, and 
began mincing and nibbling his apple delicately like a 
sheep, as if to show that he meant to profit by the 
lesson his fit of strangling had taught him. 

After a little while, when he saw that the children 
had had their fill of laughter and red apples. Uncle 
Juvinell wiped the blade of his knife with his ban- 
danna, and said, "And now, my darlings, don't you 
think we are getting along swimmingly ? " 

" Swimmingly ! " they all chimed in with one voice. 

" Gloriously ? " again inquired Uncle Juvinell. 

" Gloriously ! " cried all the children at once, as 
pat to their uncle's words as an echo to the sound. 
Whereupon the old gentleman's spectacles shone 
with a lustre that was charming to see. In a moment 
aftcT, however, Bryce, the pugnacious urchin of ten, 
expressed himself a little disappointed that they had 
had so much building of forts, and digging and cut- 
ting of roads, and so much scouting and marching. 



304 THE FARMER BOY. 

and so much getting ready to fight, and yet withal so 
little downright fighting. 

"You quite forget, Bryce, that affair of Grant's 
defeat there at Fort Duquesne," said Willie. "In 
my opinion, that was a very decent, respectable piece 
of bloodshed ; and quite as good as Braddock's dis- 
aster, as far as it goes." 

"How heartless you must be, Willie, to speak so 
lightly of such horrible things ! " exclaimed Miss 
Laura with a look of refined disgust. " To my mind, 
Washington's courtship and wedding, and the pleas- 
ant life he led at Mount Vernon, are more entertain- 
ing than all your dismal battles." 

"And those charming barge-rides by moonlight," 
chimed in Ella, " that the old Virginia planters used 
to take when they visited each other up and down the 
Potomac." 

"You are welcome to your courtships and your 
weddings and your boat-rides by moonlight," cried 
Willie, turning up his nose ; " but I would not have 
given a good fox-hunt with old Lord Fairfax for any 
of them : and what a glorious fellow Washington 
must have been, with his fine horses and his fine dogs, 
and his jumping twenty-one feet seven inches at a 
bound ! " 

" Oh, Willie ! how can you be so wanting in respect 
as to call such a man as Washington ^fellow ' ? " ex- 
claimed Laura, with a look of pious horror. " I am 
astonished at you ! " 



CONCLUSION. 305 

" But I said lie was glorious ; didn't I now, Miss 
Over-nice?" retorted Willie. 

" Your Cousin Laura, William, is quite right in 
what she says," observed Uncle Juvinell, with some- 
thing like severity in his look and tone. " We should 
never speak of the good and great in other terms 
than those of esteem and reverence ; for the effect of 
such a habit is to cultivate in ourselves those very 
qualities of mind and heart wliich make them worthy 
of our love and admiration." 

Willie was somewhat abashed by this mild rebuke, 
and apologized in a dumb way by coughing a time or 
two behind his slate. 

"Uncle," inquired Ella, "is transcendentalism an 
art or a science ? " 

" I think I can tell you what that is, Ella," Daniel 
made haste to put in ; for he never let an opportunity 
shp of showing off what he knew to the best advan- 
tage. 

"I did not call upon you for information, Mr. 
Wiseacre," said Ella, a little nettled at her brother's 
air of superior wisdom. 

" Nevertheless," cried Uncle Juvinell, "let us listen, 
and be wise. Come, give us the benefit of your 
knowledge, Daniel, toucliing this important matter." 

"I overheard father say to you the other day," 
replied Daniel, without hesitation, "that your tran- 
scendentalism, uncle, was an equal nuxture of opium, 
moonshine, fog, and sick-man's dreams." 



^ 



306 THE FARMER BOY. 

" Good ! you have hit it exactly ! " cried Uncle 
Juvinell ; " and, to reward you for your diligence in 
picking up and storing away such precious bits of 
knowledge, I promise you for your next Christmas 
present a gilt-edged copy of Bunyan's ' Pilgrim's Pro- 
gress.' " 

" I thank you very much, dear uncle," replied Dan- 
nie ; " but, if it makes no difference with you, I would 
prefer ' Josephus ' to ^ Bunyan.' " 

" Certainly, certainly, my dear nephew ; it shall be 
as you wish," replied Uncle Juvinell, a little provoked 
with himself for havInG: been so thouuhtless as to 
overlook the fact, that Daniel, being a curly-headed, 
peevish boy, was not likely to be much Interested in 
the ups and downs of good old Christian's doleful pil- 
grimage. 

"Tell me, uncle," cried John, who had an ear for 
rhyme, " what is meant by taxation, and legislation by 
representation, in a nation. Is it sense, or only 
poetry ? " 

"Bad poetry, but mighty good sense, my little 
boy," replied Uncle Juvinell ; " and, if you will be 
right attentive, I will endeavor to make clear to you 
what is meant thereby. In a popular form of govern- 
ment, — such as the one we live under, — the people 
tax themselves, and make laws for themselves, through 
persons chosen by themselves, and from among them- 
selves, to serve for a certain term of months or years 
in our State Leglslatiu-es or in our National Congress, 



CONCLUSION. 307 

as the case may be. The persons whom the people 
thus authorize to tax them and make laws, or, as it 
is otherwise termed, to legislate for them, represent- 
ing, as they do, the will, desires, and wants of the 
communities by whom they are chosen, are called 
representatives ; and hence the phrase, taxation, and 
representation by legislation.' " 

"In a nation," added Johnnie, by way of giving it 
a finish, and to show that it was all as clear as day to 
him. 

"Yes, in a nation and a state too," rejoined Uncle 
Juvinell, with a merry twinkle in his eye. 

"Will you have the kindness, uncle," said Dannie, 
" to tejl us the difference between a legislature and a 
congress and a parliament ? " 

" In our own country," replied Uncle Juvinell, " a 
legislature is the law-making assembly of a State, 
and Congress is the law-making assembly of the whole 
nation ; while Parliament is the great law-making or 
legislative assembly of Great Britain and Ireland. 
The rules and regulations in all these bodies are quite 
similar ; and, besides being vested with the power of 
laying taxes and making laws, they perform other 
services necessary to the safety and welfare of the 
state or nation. Thus the old Continental Congress 
was composed of representatives from all the thirteen 
States, which entitled each, through its representation, 
to one vote, and to equal weight and influence with 
the rest, in the acts and deliberations of this assem- 



308 THE FARMER BOY. 

bly, no matter what may have been its size and 
population, whether large or small ; nor what the 
number of its representatives, whether one or seve- 
ral." 

"And will you also tell me, uncle, wherein a con- 
vention differs from all these legislative assemblies ? " 
said Daniel, grappling manfully with the tall words, 
but stao^orerino' under them nevertheless. 

"Simply not being legislative at all, as the term is 
now generally used in our country," replied Uncle 
Juvinell. " A convention is a body of men assem- 
bled together as representatives of a party or state 
or nation, for some special purpose, such as the for- 
mation of a new State Constitution, or for making 
changes in an old one, or to give expression to the 
views and designs of a party, and to nominate candi- 
dates to the various offices of the government ; wliich 
purpose being effected, they are dissolved, and cease 
to exist or to have any legal force." 

"And why, uncle, was the name * Continental ' 
given to our first Congress ? " inquired Willie. 

" To distinguish it from the Congress of the several 
States, and as the one in wliich the common interest 
and welfare of all the States of the continent were 
represented," was Uncle Juvinelfs reply ; and then 
he added, " And hence the same term was applied to 
whatever belonged to the States conjointly, and grew 
out of their union or confederation. Thus, for exam- 
ple, besides the Continental Congress, there was a 



CONCLUSION. 309 

Continental Army, raised, equipped, and supported 
at the joint expense of all the States, and subject in 
a great measure to the control of the Continental 
Congress. And there was the Continental uniform, 
which was the uniform worn by an officer or a soldier 
of the Continental Army. And there was the Con- 
tinental currency, which was the paper-money issued 
and put into circidation by the Continental Congress, 
all the States unitedly holding themselves accountable 
for its redemption in specie ; or, in other words, bind- 
ing themselves, after having gained their independ- 
ence as a nation, to take it back at the value specified 
thereon, and giving to those who held it gold and 
silver in exchange. But more of this in another 
place." 

"And what is a minister, uncle? " inquired Laura. 
" And what is a commissioner, uncle ? " chimed in 
Ella. " And what is a revenue, uncle ? " put in Char- 
lie. " And what is a remonstrance, uncle ? " inquired 
Bryce, following up the attack. 

" Hold, you rogues ! and one at a time ! " cried 
Uncle Juvinell. " A minister, Laura, in the sense in 
which we have been using the term, is a high officer 
of State, intrusted with the control and management 
of some office or department of the national govern- 
ment, such as that of the navy or war or treasury or 
commerce or foreign affairs. All the ministers, taken 
collectively, make up what is called the ministry ; 
who, besides discharging the duties of their respective 



310 THE FAEMER BOY. 

offices, are also expected to serve as counsellors to 
the king, and aid liim in carrying out the measures 
of the government. A commissioner, Ella, is an 
agent appointed and authorized by another, or a num- 
ber of others, or a State, to transact some business of 
a private or public character, as the case may be. A 
revenue, Charlie, is the income or yearly sum of 
money of a State, raised from taxes on the people or 
their property, from duties on foreign merchandise 
imported into the country, and from the sale of pub- 
lic lands and other sources, to meet the expenses of 
the government. A remonstrance, Bryce, is a setting- 
forth in strong terms, either by writing or by word 
of mouth, the facts and reasons against something 
complained of or opposed, as unjust, unwise, or un- 
advisable." 

" I can't imagine," said Daniel, with the air of one 
who had weighed well in his own mind a matter of 
importance, "what advantage to themselves or to 
the nation George the Third and his ministers could 
have expected, when they laid those heavy taxes on 
their American Colonies, then took from them the 
power to pay them by crippling their commerce and 
putting a stop to their manufactures ; and it seems 
strano;e to me that Englishmen could ever have 
denied to Englishmen the rights and liberties of Eng- 
lishmen, without having something more to gain." 
Here Daniel broke down, and scratched his head ; and 
Uncle Juvinell, with an approving, good-humored 



CONCLUSION. 311 

smile, replied, " Those very questions, Daniel, have 
puzzled many an older head than yours, and many a 
wiser head than mine ; and, indeed, some of the 
most learned historians, who have written about these 
matters, have expressed themselves perplexed at this 
strange conduct of the king and his ministers, and 
have -been able to account for it only on the supposi- 
tion, that they were all, for the time being, bereft of 
their wits, and therefore rendered Incapable of fore- 
seeing the tremendous consequences of their unjust 
and Ill-judged measures." 

Much gi'atified at the Interest the little folks had 
taken In such dry matters, and seeing that they had no 
more questions to put to him, and that some of the 
smaller ones were already nodding In their chairs. 
Uncle Juvinell, by way of winding up the evening's 
entertainment, concluded thus : — 

" Some of you, my dear children, have read how 
good Christian, in his pilgrimage to the Celestial 
City, went on sometimes sighingly, sometimes com- 
fortably, until he came to the foot of a hill called 
Difficulty, where he found three roads to choose be- 
tween. The one to the right went around the bottom 
of the hill, and led into a wilderness of dark woods, 
out of which no one ever found his way again after 
venturing therein. The one to the left went hkewise 
around the bottom of the hill, and led Into a wilder- 
ness of dark mountains, which was even more difficult 
to escape from than the one to the right. But the 



312 THE FARMER BOY. 

middle road, which was narrow and straight, went 
right up the steep and flinty sides of the hill, and was 
the route that led direct to Mount Zion. Not beinaf 
the man to flinch from any difficulty, however great, 
good Christian hesitated not a moment to choose the 
middle road ; and accordingly he fell from running to 
walking, and from walking to going, and from going 
to clambering upon his hands and knees, till he had 
made his way to the top. Here, as you must well 
remember, there met his view a stately palace called 
Beautiful, kept by a company of prim, precise, pro- 
per, prudent, and pious maiden ladies, Avho gave our 
weary pilgrim a cordial but well-considered reception, 
and, besides admitting him to the hospitalities of 
the house gratis, entertained him with a variety 
of pleasing and edifying discourse. And you have 
not forgotten, either, how, when they had a clear 
morning, these discreet and well-ordered damsels, to 
reward him for the zeal and diligence with which he 
had heretofore pursued his journey, as well as to 
encourage him to still further effort, led him up to the 
top of their house, whence he might have a dehght- 
ful view of the Delectable Mountains, far, far away. 
And you also still bear in mind, how poor Christian 
must needs pass through the dismal Vale of Humilia- 
tion, and there meet in deadly fight the terrible 
monster Apollyon ; then through the Valley and 
Shadow of Death, with all its dolefid sights and 
sounds ; then through the wicked city of Vanity Fair ; 



CONCLUSION. 313 

then through the gloomy domains of Doubting Cas- 
tle and Giant Despair, — all before he could hope to 
set foot on these Delectable Mountains of Emanuel's 
land. 

" Now, do you not see, my dear children, that not 
altogether unlike good Christian's case, at this stage 
of his journey, is that of our own at this point of our 
story ? But. a little while ago we were trudging along, 
sometimes heavily, sometimes swimmingly, till by 
and by we reached the bottom of our Hill Difficulty ; 
by which, of course, you understand me to mean the 
causes that brought about our Revolutionary War. 
And here, had we gone to the right or the left, we 
should most assuredly have wandered Into a wilder- 
ness of romance and Brobdignagian wonders, among 
whose mazes we would have become entangled beyond 
all reasonable hope of escape. But our eyes were 
opened to our danger ; and like good Christian, by 
whose example we might profit oftener than we do, 
we knew In what direction lay our best interest, and 
were not to be enticed astray by the prospect of ease 
or novelty, nor turned back by flinty facts aiad rough 
realities. So straightway up the difficult hill we 
marched, lofty and steep as it was ; and hardly left a 
stone unturned till we had scrambled to the top. 
This gained, we have felt It our privilege to halt and 
rest a while, and refresh ourselves with a little pleasing 
and edifying discourse, one with another, touching what 
we have seen or heard in the course of our journey. 

14 



314 THE FARMER BOY. 

" We have thus surmounted the most tedious and 
difficult part of our story. But still there lies before 
us many a hard-fought battle, many an irksome siege, 
many a forlorn retreat, many a gloomy winter-camp, 
and many a season of doubt and discouragement, 
privation and dire calamity, through which we must 
pass before we can hope to set our weary feet on the 
Delectable Mountains of Freemen's Land, smiling 
invitingly beyond. But to reward you for the dili- 
gent attention with which you have followed me thus 
far, as well as to entice you to trudge on to the end, 
I will, from this elevated point, unfold to your view 
a glimpse of this glorious region, ere Hhe war-clouds 
rolling dun' fi'om the plains of Lexington and the 
heights of Bunker's Hill have too much obscured our 
morning sky. 

'* See yon land of shining' moimtains, 

Stately forests, verdant dells, 
Sun-bright rivers, sparkling fountains, 

Healthful breezes, balmy smells, 
Golden grain-fields, pleasant meadows, 

Fruitful orchards, gardens fair, 
Lasting sunshine, fleeting shadows ! 

Freedom dwells for ever there ! 

Hark ! what song is that high swelling, 

Like an anthem dropped from heaven, 
Of some jo\Tful tidings telling. 

Some rich boon to mankind given ? 
*Tis a happy people, singing 

Thanks for Freedom's victory Avon ; 
Valley, forest, mountain, ringing 

With one name, — great Washington. 



CONCLUSION. 315 

Through distress, through tribulation, 

Through the lowering clouds of war. 
They have risen to be a nation : 

Freedom shines, their morning-star. 
Would we reach those realms of glory, 

Would we join that righteous band. 
We must speed us in our story : 

Come, let's on to Freemen's Land ! " 

The next evening, the little folks, upon repairing 
to the library, found their Uncle Juvlnell seated, as 
was his wont, cross-legged in his gTeat arm-chair, 
looking with a fixed and absent gaze Into ' the glow- 
ing embers of the fire,' as if his thoughts were far 
away. 

In his hand he held an open letter which he had 
just brought from the post-office, in the contents 
whereof, it was evident, he had found somewhat of a 
painful character ; for a shght shadow had dimmed the 
brightness of his otherwise placid countenance. So 
rare a thing as that of a cloud on their good old 
uncle's sunny face caught then' notice at once ; and 
Instead of gathering round him in their usual coaxing, 
teasing, bantering, frolicsome way, they seated them- 
selves quietly on either hand, and awaited in respect- 
ful silence until he should rise to the surface of the 
deep brown-study into which he seemed to be plunged. 
But the longer he sat, the harder he looked at the 
fire, and the deeper he sank into liis re very, till the 
little folks began to fear that it would be a full hour 
before he would reach the bottom and come up again. 



316 THE FARMER BOY. 

Daniel, the young historian, sat watching his uncle's 
countenance with his sharp black eyes, expecting 
each moment to hear liim break the silence with, 
" After the battle of Bunker's Hill ; " or, " Washing- 
ton, upon liis arrival at Boston ; " or something to that 
effect. But, lost in his own thoughts. Uncle Juvi- 
nell still sat cross-legged in his arm-chan, and spoke 
not a word. At last, just by way of reminding him 
that a select and highly enlightened audience were in 
waiting to hear liim, Willie softly arose from his 
chair, and, filling the little Dutch mug to the brim 
with rich brown cider, offered it to his uncle, with a 
forward duck of the head and a backward jerk of the 
heel, which he, no doubt, intended for a genteel bow. 
Uncle Juvinell took it ; but set it again, with an absent 
air, untasted on the table. Then, drawing his spec- 
tacles doAvn from liis forehead, he again perused the 
letter he held in his hand, with earnest attention, 
the shadow on his brow deepening as he read. 

When he had finished, he laid it on the table, and 
finally broke the long silence ; his first words falling 
like ice-water on the ears of the little folks. 

" Sad news for you, my dear children ; sad news for 
us all ! I have just received a letter from my old 
friend and kinsman, Peter Parley, of whom you have 
all heard so much, and to whom, for the many 
delightfrd books he has written, the younger genera- 
tions of America are more indebted than perhaps 
to any man now living. In his letter he tells me, 



CONCLUSION. 317 

that, owing to his declining health and Increasing 
years, he has ceased his literary labors altogether, and 
betaken himself to New Orleans, in whose milder 
climate he hopes he may, in some measure, recruit 
his faihng powers. What he says in addition to this 
I will give you in his own words : — 

"The effects of that unlucky fall on the ice, while 
crossing Boston Common, so many years ago, I have felt 
m my right hip, to a greater or less degree, ever since ; 
and within the past year my lameness has so much in- 
creased as to have become a matter of much anxiety to 
my friends, and some uneasiness to myself. Taking this in 
connection with the growing infirmities of age, I some- 
times have a foreboding that I shall never return to Boston 
alive. 

" Under this impression, I now write you, my Cousin 
Juvinell, entreating you, as my nearest loving kinsman and 
much-beloved friend, to come and see me at this place, 
and sojourn here with me, until, in the wisdom of a kind 
Providence, it be determined whether my span of life is to 
be shortened or lengthened yet a little more. It will be a 
comfort to me to have you by my side at the closing scene ; 
and it may be that your cheerful presence and sunny hu- 
mor will do more to revive me than I can hope for even 
from this mild, pleasant Louisiana air. 

" I know that your comphance with my request will 
for a season prove a serious interruption to the enjoyment 
of the little folks in your vicinity, whom you have taken 
under your wing, and to whose entertainment and instruc- 
tion so much of your useful life is devoted. But they wiU, 

14* 



318 THE FAEMER BOY. 

I am sure, without hesitation, make this sacrifice in behalf 
of one who has for many long years labored so hard and 
faithfully for then- happiness and improvement. Com- 
mend me kindly to them. Hoping to see you at an 
early day, I remain, as ever, your affectionate friend and 
kinsman, 

" Peter Parley." 



Uncle Juvinell went on : "I am gratified, my dear 
children, to see in your grateful and sympathetic 
looks, saddened and disappointed though I know you 
really to be, that you are ready and willing to sac- 
rifice what pleasure and entertainment my company 
and conversation may afibrd you, to the comfort and 
wishes of this venerated and excellent man. My 
going-away at this moment will, it is true, cause a 
sad interruption to our story of the life of Wash- 
ington ; but next Christmas, if we all be spared, and 
your Uucle Juvinell keep his memory fresh and 
green, we will gather together again in this very 
room, and take it up where we now drop it, and fol- 
low it through all its eventful changes to the glorious 
and 'happy end. Meanwhile, ponder well in your 
minds what I have already told you of the childhood, 
youth, and early prime of this illustrious man. And 
after all, now that I give the matter a second thought, 
we could not have been interrupted at a more suitable 
place ; for the account I have given up to this point 
needs scarcely a single important particular to make 



CONCLUSION. 319 

it a complete and separate story. We have followed 
him step by step, and seen how he rose, first from the 
boy-farmer to the youthful surveyor, from that to 
the young colonel, from that to the legislator of more 
mature years, and lastly from that to commander- 
in-chief of the armies of a young and rising nation. 

"The history of his career after this period is, in 
fact, so closely connected with that of his country, as 
to be altogether inseparable from it. 

"And again I repeat, ponder well in your minds 
what I have already told you, as being, after all, the 
part most necessary for you at present to know. 
Ever strive to keep his example before your eyes, 
ever to cherish his virtues in your hearts. Like him, 
be industrious in your habits, diligent in your studies, 
polite in your manners, orderly in your dress, peace- 
able in your disposition, upright in your dealings, 
faithftil in your friendsliips, patient under trials, per- 
severing under difficulties, strangers to covetousness, 
content with little, moderate with much, generous, 
self-denying, courageous in well-doing, pure in heart, 
devout in spirit, modest before men, reverent to your 
parents, respectful to your superiors, humble befor^ 
God ; and, hke him, let the clear light of truth shine 
forth in all your words, in all your actions, in all 
your looks and gestures, in all your secret thoughts, 
and in your very souls. Be all this, that men may 
reverence you, that angels may honor you, that God 
may bless and reward you." 



320 THE FARMER BOY. 

Here Uncle Jiivinell paused ; and, as he looked 
round on the saddened faces of his little auditors, a 
moisture crept out softly upon his eyelashes, and 
dimmed the brightness of his spectacles. " It grieves 
me much, my dearest cliildren," said he, after a 
moment or two, — and there was a tremor of deep 
fatherly feeling in his voice, — " it grieves me much, 
that our happy little circle must be -broken up. It 
will be but for a season, however ; and, when we meet 
again, we shall be happier than had we not parted at 
all. On Monday, I take the stage-coach for Louis- 
ville ; and there I take the steamer ' Eclipse ' for New 
Orleans. As it is a long journey I have before me, 
I must needs write many letters, and do a deal of 
packing, before setting out : so we will sing our even- 
ning hymn now, and separate for the night." 

Then, joining their voices together, they sang that 
beautiful hymn, " Though far away from friends and 
home." At the second line, however, — "A lonely 
wanderer I may roam," — the little folks fairly broke 
down ; their hearts rising into their throats from very 
grief, and choking their voices : but, with all the 
ease of a professed singing-master, Uncle Juvinell, 
though his heart was full too, glided at once from 
the lowest bass to the highest treble, which he car- 
ried alone, until some of the children, getting the 
better of their feelings, chimed in with him, when 
he softly dropped to the very bottom of his bass 



agam. 



CONCLUSION. 321 

The hymn ended, the little folks came one by one, 
and, without speaking a word, embraced and kissed 
their dear old uncle, this best of men; he laying 
his gentle hand upon their bowed heads, and blessing 
them with more than his usual fervor. 



THE END. 



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